


We're the stars of each other

by Burtonized



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Angst, Choi San is Whipped, Dom/sub Undertones, Drunk Texting, Eventual Happy Ending, Jung Wooyoung is Whipped, Jung Wooyoung is a Brat, M/M, Meet-Cute, Minor Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa, Misunderstandings, San is an actor, Sexting, Slow Burn, Smut, So is Seonghwa, Texting, Wooyoung is a fan, Yeosang is the best friend ever, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:15:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 55,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26636434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burtonized/pseuds/Burtonized
Summary: “I hope to see you again,” he said honestly.Wooyoung carefully pocketed the picture inside his bag. “Maybe you will.”He stood, the chair creaking a little from the sudden movement. San begrudgingly let go of their entwined hands. “Next time you dance,” he said in lieu of a goodbye, “think of me?”“Oh, but San,” Wooyoung chuckled, “I already do.”Or: San is a dancer-turned-actor, who takes part in meet-and-greets from time to time to see his fans. He is unprepared, however, when a beautiful boy sits down in front of him, and turns his world upside down from the very first second. Things only spiral from there.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung
Comments: 75
Kudos: 290





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, and welcome to this beast that got severely out of control! What was supposed to be a short one shot turned into this multi-chaptered thing. This fic is already complete and I will update once or twice a week, depending on how long I need to proofread and finetune each chapter.
> 
> With that being said, please enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing but my mistakes and imagination, and please keep in mind that English is not my native language.
> 
> Also, the biggest shoutout to Rai (love you girl!) for always being there to listen to my rants, to help me through my struggles when writing, to read through scenes I'm unsure about, and for providing me with the support I need whenever I am about to rip my hair out because of frustration. You are the real MVP here and this fic would have not been possible without you!

San looked at his reflection in the mirror, ignoring the loud screams that managed to find their way through the supposedly soundproof door. It was the same every single time, with every single meet-and-greet, at every single venue.

The screaming, that is, not that a supposedly soundproof door failed. Often, the backstage areas weren’t equipped with soundproof _anything_ , because the sounds from the main room were loud enough to mask anything that happened backstage.

“San, are you ready?”

San looked away from his reflection, his gaze fleeting to his manager. The man was a godsend most of the time, a grounding person that kept San firmly on earth. That was a good thing, considering the whirlwind that was San’s life - and had been his life ever since he had been scouted at that dance event at the young age of fifteen. It was funny, really, how that one dance show had thrown him into a life he had never dared to dream of. What had started out as some paid shows and a good scholarship for an elite dance academy, had evolved into some modelling jobs on the side. His name had become more known, especially within the dance world, and when he had barely turned seventeen, he was offered a role in a new movie, to play a kid that was talented as dancing. It had been a minor role, but it had been enough to kickstart his newfound career and fame.

Suddenly, he was the new hot thing in town, and great directors wanted San to star in their new movies. The opportunities were too great to ignore.

And that’s how he found himself in the situation he was in now, at just twenty-one years old, with the lead roles in a handful of blockbusters under his belt. The fame and popularity could have easily gotten to his head, but San’s manager kept him down to earth most of the time, something San was eternally grateful for. The attention, fame, and money could have gotten to anyone’s head within seconds.

But as it was, San merely felt a headache coming up as the sounds coming from the other side of the door turned into screams, indicating that they were announcing his arrival. He loved his fans, he honestly did, but sometimes he wished they would stop screaming like he was some sort of untouchable deity. In the end, he was merely human too, wanting to enjoy these meet-and-greets as much as his fans did.

His gaze flitted back to himself, to the way his lips curled themselves into a smile that was neither genuine nor fake, that was simply just _there_. His hair was black again, after having to dye it blonde for his last role. He liked it like that - feeling more like himself again.

“San,” his manager interjected again, ripping San from his thoughts. “It is time.” The man frowned then, giving San a look that asked far too many questions. “Are you alright?”

San forced his lips to curl higher, to form that bright smile he was known for. “Of course.” He moved away from the mirror and towards the door. “Why wouldn’t I be alright?”

His manager didn’t say anything, shaking his head, and opened the door for him.

The screams were deafening, but San shouldered on, all smiles and waves. The crowd was big, bigger than expected, and he was pretty sure some fans must have sneaked in to catch a glimpse of him, even though they had not won the meet-and-greet with him.

Fans were screaming and crying, chanting his name over and over, and San ignored the urge to turn around and walk backstage again. This was always the hardest part. Once he could sit down and talk one on one with his fans for a little, he knew things would quiet down.

So, he kept on smiling, waving occasionally, listening to the guy that directed this event say some introductions, and before he knew it, he could sit down, and meet the first fan. From there, it was a whirlwind of males and females that sat in front of him. Most chats were short, just long enough to say hello, ask a thing or two, sign something they brought, and say goodbyes.

After about twenty fans had sat down in the seat, he felt his shoulders lose their tenseness, his body falling into the familiar rhythm. Smiling became a little less strained, the conversations flowing a little more easily. His manager hummed approvingly on the side, clearly happy that San was managing to put whatever was troubling him out of his mind - at least for now.

It took an hour or two, but the end of the line was nearing, which honestly was a good thing. San’s jaw was starting to hurt from all the smiling and his hand was cramping up from all the signing. He forced himself to smile a little wider as he said goodbye to the girl in front of him, using the small window of time he had to sip from his water.

He quickly sat the bottle down again once he noticed movements out of the corner of his eye, and looked up, smile already on his face, ready to say hello --

\-- only to be met with the most beautiful face he had ever seen.

The guy in front of him was smiling a bit hesitantly, his long wavy bangs covering the sides of his dark eyes, that looked at San with an intensity he had never seen before. A mole was barely visible underneath the guy’s left eye, the mark covered with some light makeup. San had to resist the sudden urge to wipe the makeup away.

He heard his manager scrape his throat and instinctively wanted to look up but realized that he should be welcoming this fan instead.

“Hi,” he said, his smile coming easily and free. The small smile on the boy’s lips was enough to make San want to smile too. “What’s your name?”

That seemed to puzzle the guy, his brows furrowing a little, before he huffed a small laugh. “I’m Wooyoung,” he said, smiling more broadly, and honestly, it was one of the prettiest smiles San had ever seen.

“That’s a pretty name,” San complimented honestly.

A flush spread across Wooyoung’s cheeks, and he averted his face as he bit his lip.

So he was pretty _and_ adorable?

San could feel his sanity leaving him as he reached out, gently placing his finger on Wooyoung’s jaw, guiding his face back. “Don’t look away,” he said. “You’re far too beautiful to hide yourself.”

Wooyoung was now properly blushing, his cheeks nearly scarlet with embarrassment. “Says you,” he muttered, but he wasn’t looking away again, instead holding San’s gaze.

San choked on his laugh, torn between wanting to reach out despite knowing he shouldn’t or have a fight about who was prettier. In his humble opinion, it was definitely Wooyoung.

“Doesn’t mean I am lying,” he settled on instead. Now was not the time to give into his urges.

San had always had urges. A strange sense of _needing_ to do something, but life had taught him there was a time and place for everything - even his urges. And now was definitely not the time to act upon the urge to reach out to the beautiful stranger in front of him. Had he not been famous, and had they met under entirely different circumstances, he might have. Scratch that, he _would_ have. He wasn’t a child, hadn’t been for a while now, and he knew that once he had set his eyes and resolve on something, he would work his ass off until he got what he wanted.

Wooyoung bit his lip again and that action alone did _things_ to him. If he wasn’t so enthralled by the stranger in front of him, San would have been embarrassed by how much he was affected by their short interaction.

“I bet you say that to all the pretty fans that sit opposite you,” Wooyoung retorted. The flush was still present on his cheeks, but the color wasn’t as deep anymore. Which honestly? A pity.

“No.” San shook his head. “Only to you.”

Wooyoung laughed, the sound surprisingly high and San felt something stab inside his heart. How was this boy so adorable?

“I mean it!” San pressed on, chuckling as well. How could he not, when Wooyoung’s laugh was this cute and carefree? “You really are beautiful, and I will fight anyone that will ever say otherwise.”

“Sure,” Wooyoung actually _snorted_. There was still a shyness present in his features, but it seemed he had momentarily forgotten he was supposed to be shy. “And how will I contact you then, if someone ever tells me I’m ugly?”

“Just give me a call, darling.”

“Sure,” Wooyoung said casually, obviously not believing San.

His manager coughed again, and San smiled apologetically. “Our time is nearly up.” He sounded sadder about that than he’d like to admit.

“That is okay.” Wooyoung fiddled with something in the bag he had carried and made a small, triumph-like noise when he found what he was looking for.

San expected it to be another promo picture of his latest movie, but instead stared at his younger self, in a dancing pose from a performance he hadn’t done in years, when Wooyoung slid the picture across the table. It was very rare for fans to come with pictures from his dancing years and he looked up in confusion.

“I’m a dancer too,” Wooyoung said. He smiled fondly. “This performance was the first time I saw you and I have been enjoying your work ever since.”

San was stunned speechless for a second or two. That performance had been years ago and Wooyoung had been there? Wooyoung had been following San’s career even before his big break happened?

“That performance actually made me decide to pursue a career in dance too,” Wooyoung continued, the fond smile turning a bit shyer now. “Thank you for that. I’ve always wanted to tell you that, so you know that you have inspired a shy kid like myself to push harder.”

“No,” San said immediately, shaking his head. He couldn’t help himself from reaching out, entwining their fingers and squeezing a little. “Thank _you_.” _For being here, for supporting me as long as you have._ Words he probably should have said but didn’t. Sometimes, he had learned over the years, it was best to not say everything one wanted to say.

He reached for his pen to sign the picture. The slightly annoyed tapping of his manager was a clear indication that San needed to hurry up.

It was simply a last-second decision to add his number underneath the ‘ _To the beautiful Wooyoung. With love, San_ ’ and signature he had written. Something giddy bubbled inside his body as he handed Wooyoung back the paper. “I hope to see you again,” he said honestly.

Wooyoung carefully pocketed the picture inside his bag. “Maybe you will.”

He stood, the chair creaking a little from the sudden movement. San begrudgingly let go of their entwined hands. “Next time you dance,” he said in lieu of a goodbye, “think of me?”

“Oh, but San,” Wooyoung chuckled, “I already do.”

\--

To say San was a bit annoyed that he _still_ had no message from Wooyoung was a bit understatement. Even though their meeting had been very brief, it had left a lasting impression on him. Their short conversation had been enough to make San _want_ , and not only in a sexual way. Wooyoung had been one of the handful of people that hadn’t acted all crazy in front of him and it had been a refreshing experience. On top of that, Wooyoung had held himself in a way that bordered on the line of shy, but something in his eyes had showed a daring determination. San wanted to find out what happened once the shyness made way for whatever was laying underneath. Not to mention their short conversation about how Wooyoung was also a dancer and San had found himself imagining what it would be like to dance with Wooyoung, assuming that Wooyoung was like the gifted dancer he was in San’s dreams.

But as it was, Wooyoung had not responded in any way to the number San had scribbled underneath his signature, and it really put him in a bad mood. A part of him wondered whether Wooyoung really had no interest in San at all, but then he remembered Wooyoung had been there, at the meet-and-greet, specifically to meet San, and suddenly that fleeting wonder made no sense at all.

The weeks had flown by, however, and before San knew it, another meet-and-greet was scheduled as part of the promotion for his latest film. _Wonderland_ had been a fun movie to participate in, allowing San to show a side of himself not many people had seen before. The role had allowed him to go crazy and as it turned out, the crowd loved it. The movie gave him a lot of new fans and doing another meet-and-greet was his way of giving back - even if the events sometimes annoyed him to no end.

The meet-and-greet was in a different venue than last time, but that hardly mattered. Even though the surroundings changed, the day itself hardly ever did. It was always a day filled with smiling too wide and signing too much, to the point where both his jaws and fingers cramped up. But it was as much a part of his job as acting was and if he had to pick between giving up everything or doing these meet-and-greets, he wouldn’t change it for the world.

Despite his slowly growing aversion to these events, he kept telling himself it was a way to meet his fans, to give back to them in ways not many celebrities could. He had always taken pride in his ability to fit in some meetings with fans and he would never take their support for granted - but that didn’t mean it sometimes annoyed him how he was treated by fans.

The meet-and-greet went like any other. San smiled, and laughed, and talked, signing the things the fans brought, holding their hands if they seemed to fall apart under the mere fact that they were sitting in front of him - doing all the things he always did. Honestly, he was enjoying himself. The new wave of fans seemed to be a little less over the top and he had some fun little interactions with them. Most of his fans were still female, but there was an obvious increase in male fans too, if this meeting was anything to go by.

“Thank you for coming to meet me,” he told the girl sitting in front of him, smiling broadly. She was a pretty girl, her hair long and dark and her eyes bright. She had been kind, mostly a giggling mess, but their little interaction had been short and sweet. “Hope to see you next time!”

She giggled, almost adorably, before getting up from the chair and walking away. San watched her go for a second or two, as he usually did with most of his fans, in case they turned around and waved for a last time. She wasn’t one of them, however, nearly running out of the room - probably to catch up with friends that were waiting for her.

San shook his head bemusedly, before turning his attention back to the new fan that was sitting in front of him now.

“Hi--” he started, but the rest of the sentence died a silent death in his throat, the smile that had been edged on his lips fading.

Wooyoung, however, smiled. “Hi, San.”

San was _not_ okay. Wooyoung looked unfairly pretty, his dark eyes accentuated by some skillfully applied makeup. To San’s disappointment, the little mole was hidden again behind a thin layer of foundation. Wooyoung’s hair was still long and black, the wavy bangs reaching past his eyes, and paired with the black, sleeveless shirt he was wearing, he looked like he walked straight out of an e-boy magazine.

San felt his throat tighten at the mere sight of the boy sitting in front of him.

“Why did you never text me?” The question was past his lips before his brain registered ever forming it.

Wooyoung arched an eyebrow. “ _Please_ , I may call myself a fan, but I am not that desperate.”

“What do you mean?” San asked, confused.

“Either it is one of those generic phone numbers that will send little updates about you by your team,” Wooyoung answered without missing a beat. “Or it is the number you give to every fan you think is pretty. And I am not playing that kind of games.”

San leaned forward, folding his arms together on the table in front of him. Wooyoung didn’t move back, leaning in instead, close enough for San to smell the cologne he was wearing. It made him dizzy with things he shouldn’t be thinking about.

“For the record,” San muttered, lowering his voice so the people around them couldn’t hear them, despite the noise in the room probably being loud enough to draw out anything he said, “I have never given my number to any other fan before. Just you.” He blindly grabbed for one of the papers from the stack that was lying beside him, intended to be used as a spare in case someone forgot to bring something he could sign. He quickly wrote something down on it, pressing the paper into Wooyoung’s hand once he was done. “I promise you that this is my number. Text me, okay?”

Wooyoung glanced down at the paper, his eyes skimming over the numbers and words. “I’ll think about it,” he settled on after a few seconds, before making a move to stand.

San grabbed his hand instead. He needed Wooyoung to text him. He wasn’t sure what caused him to act like this, or why he was so enamored by Wooyoung, despite only having met twice for barely two minutes, but all he knew was that he wanted Wooyoung to text him. “ _Please_ , Wooyoung,” he muttered.

Something flickered across Wooyoung’s face, something San didn’t quite understand. But Wooyoung didn’t give an answer, smiling that bright smile of him instead. “Until we meet again, San.”

But San tightened his hold, keeping Wooyoung where he was, not caring what the people and photographers around them would think of the action. “I am serious.”

Wooyoung cocked his head to the side and reached inside the pockets of his ripped jeans, placing a single rectangular piece of paper on the table. Except it wasn’t a paper, but a ticket to a small showcase in one of the venues nearby.

San grabbed it, looking puzzled between the ticket and Wooyoung.

“If you’re really serious,” Wooyoung said as he gently pulled back from San’s grip, “then come to this showcase next Saturday.”

San didn’t even know what his schedule was next Saturday, but he honestly couldn’t care less. Other appointments and meetings could be rearranged; he would go to this showcase. “I’ll be there,” he assured Wooyoung.

“Lovely.” Wooyoung smiled broadly. “See you then!”

\--

It had taken a lot more convincing and rearranging than San had originally thought. As it had turned out, his Saturday had been packed with different obligations, most of them too important to simply forego. His manager, understandably, had not been pleased when San had said to rearrange everything.

And for what, exactly? It was a question his manager had asked, making that face that dripped of disappointment. Why was this one boy so special that everything needed to be dropped in an instant? Why was there this sudden need to go see the small showcase?

 _Why_?

Try as he might, San couldn’t come up with an answer that would satisfy his manager, probably because he didn’t even understand the reason himself. All he knew was that he couldn’t stop thinking about Wooyoung, about their short discussions and how San had wanted to ask more, to know more, to figure out every little layer that made Wooyoung into the person he was today.

But the meet-and-greets had not blessed him with that time and time was really all he needed.

His manager had declared him insane, possibly rightfully so. The decision to drop important meetings and appointments for a showcase of a boy he had seen twice was ridiculous, but San couldn’t find it in him to care. Wooyoung had told San to prove it, to prove that San was serious, and that was what he would do. He would show Wooyoung how serious he was, that he didn’t go around and gave his numbers to every pretty person he saw. He would show Wooyoung how special Wooyoung was, in ways neither of them probably fully understood yet.

San, for a lack of better term, was thoroughly whipped.

If he was honest with himself, it scared him a little. They had never talked for longer than a handful of minutes, their time cut short by the restraints set by the meet-and-greets. But their first conversation had left such an everlasting impression on San, that the second one had been a desperate attempt to get Wooyoung to text. Perhaps the idea of falling head-over heels wasn’t as farfetched as people often thought.

So, San had stood his ground, telling his manager that it was absolutely necessary to make his Saturday afternoon free for the showcase. His manager hadn’t understood, and San hadn’t explained, but in the end, the threat of saying he simply wouldn’t show up either way was enough of an incentive for his manager to pull some strings here and there. Excuses were made, appointments were rearranged, his manager seemed none the wiser, and San was free to see Wooyoung perform.

It made him nervous in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. His fame had made it difficult to pursue any interest, as he had learned the hard way. There were far too many opinions, far too many people that were interested in him and his love life, and things got twisted and morphed into things they weren’t. It had cost him his very first relationship, as the girl hadn’t been able to deal with the constant attention and pressure.

After the fifth hookup that turned out to be disastrous, San had simply given up on it, devoting himself to his work and his career, ignoring any advances that were ever made his way. And there had been many, both from fans and from other celebrities. It wasn’t that uncommon for celebrities to sneak off during an afterparty, to get some action in an upscale bathroom. Sometimes, it was easier that way. Easier than diving head-first into a relationship you knew would have one step against it from the very beginning.

He loved his fans, he truly did, but some could be vicious. Vicious in what they wanted, vicious in what they expected, and at some point, San hadn’t been able to see the people he loved being torn apart by both the media and his fans. The handful of negative ones had always managed to draw out the gazillion positive ones.

Wooyoung was the first person he wanted to pursuit, whether it was as a good friend or something more, in a very long time. It scared him, not so much for himself, but more so for Wooyoung. What if the media got to know of their involvement, or whatever there was between them (and if San was honest, he wasn’t even sure whether there was anything nameworthy to begin with), and ripped Wooyoung apart? San may have chosen for this life and for the cruel words and attention that came with it, but Wooyoung hadn’t. It would be unfair to drag the both of them down a path neither deserved.

But he was getting ahead of himself. He first had to make it obvious to Wooyoung that he was serious. Serious about getting to know him, serious about giving his number, serious about figuring out why the hell his heart was missing a beat whenever Wooyoung drifted into his mind.

The week dragged on for what felt like forever, and San felt himself zoning out more often than not during meetings to discuss a script for a new movie. It would mean another lead role, and there would be some dancing involved, but the general script was so overdone that San found it impossible to focus. Instead, his mind drifted to what he would see on Saturday, when he would finally see Wooyoung dance.

Knowing that Wooyoung made a career out of dancing did more to him than San liked to admit. Perhaps it was because he was a dancer first and foremost himself, but whenever the producer talked about scenes where he and his protagonist would dance in a romantic or suggestive way, San could only think about how Wooyoung would perform in such scenes.

And he hadn’t even seen Wooyoung dance yet.

San groaned to himself, ignoring the surprised look the producer and his protagonist were giving him. Honestly, this wasn’t fair, to neither of them. The girl was pretty, and she was a great actress, but he also knew she wasn’t that much of a skilled dancer and talking about it only aggravated him for reasons he rather not thought about.

“San?” the producer asked, setting the script down. “Something wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” San apologized immediately. “Just something on my mind. Can we have a short break and continue after that?”

The producer nodded and San stood up, immediately leaving the room to get to the restroom, in the hopes of finding some peace and quiet. He really needed to get a grip on himself if he wanted to make it through the rest of the week.

He groaned again. The week was going to feel like an eternity.

\--

Somehow, he survived the remaining days, managing to focus long enough during the meetings when needed. He was still unsure about the new movie and was told to hand in his decision before Monday. The producer had, once again, said how much he wanted to keep San on board, and that any disagreement would be discussable. In reality, that simply meant that San would get shushed one way or another, most likely with money, and the movie would happen as it was written.

But making that choice could wait for now, because San had somewhere else to be. Dressed in tight black jeans, an oversized black sweater, and his heavy boots on his feet, he stepped outside. He had put on a pair of sunglasses and a beanie, in the hopes of not getting recognized as easily, though he knew it was probably futile. People tended to recognize him anyway, and he would probably have to dress up as an entirely different person to not get noticed.

That might have been easier, but San had always liked to live a little dangerously. And he had a boy to impress, which had affected his rather poor disguise decisions more than any rational thought. Good thing his manager hadn’t been around to scold him for it.

He kept his head low as he walked through the city, the day sunny albeit a bit chilly. He was glad he had a sweater on, but grimaced when he realized he had forgotten his coat. Technically, he could still go back to fetch it, but he was too afraid to be late. The inevitable coldness later tonight could be tackled once he got there. Besides, it wasn’t a long walk anyway, and before he knew it, his destination was right in front of him.

The venue was on older building, the outside decorated with majestic art sculptures of lions. It looked pretty, despite the obvious wear-and-tear that had worked down on the stone structure throughout the years.

The inside wasn’t much different, the decorations reminding San of the renaissance years. It was pretty, all completely in style, giving off a certain vibe.

“Excuse me,” a voice said to his left, and San responded automatically. A girl, dressed neatly in a skirt and blouse, stood on the side. She was smiling a welcoming smile, waving him nearer. San complied. “Do you have a ticket?”

“Ah,” San exclaimed, fiddling inside the pocket of his jeans to get the ticket out. It wasn’t looking as neat anymore as when Wooyoung had handed it to him, but he hardly thought that would matter. “Here it is.”

“Thank you, sir,” the girl said politely, checking over the ticket. “Your seat is in the third row, down the middle. You can use the door on the left,” she pointed to one of the doors, “and walk down the stairs. Just look at the row numbers on the chairs and you should be able to find yours easily. If you have any issues or questions, you can find me here and I’d be happy to help you.”

San nodded. “Thank you.” The girl handed back his ticket and he pocketed it again, before setting off towards the door. It was heavy, heavier than expected, but just a little push of the shoulder was enough to push the door open enough for San to slip through.

The stage was dimly lit, the curtains still closed, and San could practically feel the nervous excitement in the air. It had been years since he had danced on a stage like that and he felt a sudden yearning to get up there and dance his heart out. He didn’t, of course, instead finding his seat with relative ease and taking place. He thought it best to lay low. Wooyoung had given him the ticket after all, there would be no need to make his presence known. Wooyoung would know what row and seat San was in.

It took nearly fifteen minutes before anything happened, but that was okay. San just sat and waited patiently, watching how the seats around him filled out until there were barely any left to fill. No one seemed to pay him any mind though, most of the people either softly whispering amongst themselves, staying in their own personal bubble. It was a rare, blissful moment, and San felt his body relax, unaware of the tension that had settled subconsciously. Getting recognized was an inevitable part of becoming famous and people always responded differently depending on where he went. The sudden anonymity was something he hadn’t felt in a long time, and he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. Perhaps it was bold of him to think, but he dared taking off the beanie too.

He wanted Wooyoung to see him as he was, without the silly disguises he often wore when he didn’t feel like parading around town. And it was foolish, the sudden realization of how far he was willing to go if it meant Wooyoung would understand how serious San was.

The lights dimmed suddenly, effectively quieting down the hushed whispers. The nervous excitement that was palpable in the air became more noticeable, amplified by the eager anticipation of the crowd. It was a beautiful combination, throwing San back into reminiscing about the feeling and how exhilarating it had felt to wait behind that curtain, knowing he would dance out his heart and soul as soon as the curtain lifted. He missed dancing, despite still doing it nearly every day as his workout. But he missed the thrill of performing for people, of moving the crowd with his movements and heartfelt showcases.

The curtain opened, revealing a relatively empty stage. There were some simple attributes here and there, but they were standing on the side, definitely meant to be used later.

There was no introduction, no indication that the show was officially about the start, but music suddenly sounded from the speakers, the melody fierce and strong from the first beat. It carried a delicate undertone, however, aiding beautifully in the way a handful of female dancers entered the stage with graceful ballet-like movements. Their styles were merged together, but their technical abilities were no joke and San found himself in awe as they moved across the stage, their poise and grace so on point with the underlying melody that it seemed to change the whole song.

More dancers filled the stage, male dancers now, who danced to the heavier beat of the song, their movements strong and abrupt. And there, in the middle of the circle that was forming, was Wooyoung.

San was simply starstruck.

Wooyoung danced with a style that merged both the grace of the ballet elements with the more hip-hop inspired elements, his body fluid, his toes and fingers pointed. He moved his body with both flexibility and emotion, letting the song carry him through the choreography. All of them were great, honestly, but San found himself unable to look away from Wooyoung, from the way he exceeded any expectation and imagination San had ever been able to come up with.

The song changed, the beat becoming heavier and more upbeat, and the dancers adjusted their movements as well. Wooyoung no longer danced like he was a fragile ballet dancer, instead punctuating every beat of the music with a movement of his body that was just right. He was talented, that much was obvious, and San felt a shiver run down his spine.

The show progressed much like that, with the group alternating between different songs and styles, like a beautiful harmony that lasted forever. They seemed effortless, their movements so fluid and on point.

Near the end of the show, however, the music changed completely, indicating a far more seductive song. The strings of the guitar were pleasing to the ear, drawing all the people in, the underlying beat slowly growing and making people unable to look away.

A smaller group of the male dancers moved back onto stage, dressed in different, far more revealing clothes. The shirts were sleeveless and lowcut, the pants ridiculously tight. But it showed of their toned muscles in all the right ways.

Wooyoung was right at the center of the group, his gaze dark, a lopsided smirk on his lips as his eyes found San’s without missing a beat. He arched an eyebrow, daring, _inviting_ , and San felt his throat tighten and his pulse quicken.

And then they moved, the choreography full of sinful body rolls and hip thrusts and San felt dizzy with something he refused to name. Wooyoung didn’t break their eye contact unless he absolutely had to, cocking his hips out to the side while his hands moved across his thighs and crotch in time with the music. The crowd around him went wild, cheering the dancers on, enjoying the little show they were giving, but San hardly noticed.

He could only focus on Wooyoung and on the way he moved his hips, bit his lips, smirked at all the right moments.

San felt hot all over, his skin suddenly too tight around his skeleton. He had hoped that Wooyoung would be a good dancer, but this exceeded _every_ expectation he had ever had. Who was this boy that had been so shy upon their first meeting, but was now practically giving one of the sexiest performances San had ever seen?

He didn’t know, but _God_ , did he want to find out.

His cheers were among the loudest once the group came to a stop, their breathing heavy, their bodies glistening with sweat.

The group gave an encore, an upbeat version of their first dance. It was beautiful, the group obviously enjoying what they did, and the crowd was loving it as well if the clapping was anything to go by. And just like that, the show was over.

San still felt dizzy in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time, nearly going insane with _something_ that itched underneath his skin. Almost reluctantly, he got up from his chair, following the stream of people to the heavy doors and outside the performance hall. Some seemed to leave immediately, but others stayed behind and mingled.

“Excuse me,” San asked an elderly couple that had been walking before him but had strayed off to the side once they had crossed the doors. “Is there a particular reason some people are staying behind?”

The elderly lady smiled warmly. “Yes dear,” she said, accentuating her words by nodding enthusiastically. “Often, the dancers come out after they have changed to chat a bit with the people that came to see the show.”

The man, who San presumed was her husband if their matching rings were anything to go by, nodded along with her. “One of our granddaughters in in the show,” he added proudly. “If you have some time to spare and enjoyed their show, please stay behind.”

“Oh, yes,” the woman exclaimed. “They always love to meet new people that enjoyed their show.”

San smiled in response. “Then I shall stay for a little while longer. Which dancer was your granddaughter?”

He chatted with the elderly couple for a while, complimenting them on their granddaughter and on how well she had been. He stated twice more that he had thoroughly enjoyed the show, much to the delight of the couple.

“You seem familiar,” the woman said after a while, tapping the edge of the glass she was holding in a thoughtful manner. “Have we seen you somewhere before?”

“I don’t think so,” San settled on, smiling politely. “But I am often told I resemble a certain model. I forgot his name.”

“Oh, yes,” the lady agreed instantly, “that must be it.” She looked up then, when a smaller door to the right opened and the dancers started to move into the great foyer. “It was lovely talking to you dear. Maybe we will see you again next time they give show.”

“The pleasure was all mine,” San said, ducking his head in a little bow. “Make sure to tell your granddaughter I thought she was wonderful.”

That seemed to make the couple even happier and they walked off with great smiles on their faces, in search of their granddaughter.

San, however, was already turning his attention elsewhere. It was rather crowded now in the foyer and it took him nearly a minute before he found the person he was looking for.

Wooyoung was chatting with some people, one of the smaller, blonde dancers next to him. San moved towards him instantly, fluidly moving between the crowd. He waited politely, however, until Wooyoung was done talking to the couple he had been chatting to, reaching out when Wooyoung was about to turn away.

“Wooyoung -- Hi,” he said, unable to stop the smile from forming. Even now, when Wooyoung was dressed in a loose top and sweatpants, he looked beautiful.

Wooyoung’s smile was instantly. “You really came.”

“Told you I was serious.”

The chuckle that escaped Wooyoung was adorable. “So you have,” he said, diverting his attention to the blonde dancer that had been beside him before. “San, this is Yeosang,” he introduced the blonde dancer, who eyed San with far more skepticism than San had ever seen from someone that met him for the first time. “Yeosang, this is San.”

“Who would have thought,” Yeosang said, sounding both sarcastic and impressed at the same time. “You actually came.”

“I feel like I’m missing something,” San chuckled nervously.

Yeosang shrugged. “Just know I’ll have your balls if you hurt Wooyoung.”

“Okay, _bye!_ ” Wooyoung said hurriedly, pushing against Yeosang in order to get the dancer to move away. Yeosang obliged, albeit begrudgingly, but his attention was called elsewhere when another male called his name.

“He seems fun,” San retorted, looking at the retreating frame of the blonde dancer.

“He is my best friend and rather protective over me.”

“ _Cute_.” That earned him a smack against the shoulder from Wooyoung. “What? It is cute. Friends that are protective over you are rare. He has every right to threaten me.”

“I’m glad you think that way,” Wooyoung laughed, “because we are sort of a package deal.”

San couldn’t help but grin. “Does that mean you finally take me serious?”

“You’re here, aren’t you,” Wooyoung answered, smiling as well.

Something swelled inside San’s chest, something hot and lava-like that melted him all over and made him giddy with nervous excitement. But he swallowed it down, forced himself to calm down. Now was not the place nor the time to react to his urges.

“You were beautiful on stage,” he said instead, meaning it with every fiber of his being. “You exceeded any expectations I had.”

A rosy color tinted Wooyoung’s cheeks, but he didn’t look away this time, taking the praise with a certain kind of pride San hadn’t seen before. “Thanks.”

“I must admit though,” San continued, wanting to see how far he could go, “that last dance before the encore? Is it too soon to say you drove me a little insane there?”

Wooyoung laughed. “Do you want to know my secret to that performance?” His gaze darkened a little, and all San could do was nod as he felt himself getting lost in the boy in front of him. Wooyoung leaned in, his breath tickling the shell of San’s ear. “I was thinking of you,” he whispered, darkly, _seductively_.

San practically felt his brain come to a screeching halt, his heart missing a beat, and he involuntarily stepped back, away from the intoxicating presence of Wooyoung.

Wooyoung was actually smirking at him, seemingly far too pleased with himself.

“Jesus, Wooyoung,” San breathed, laughing a bit shakily, “let a man live a little.”

“Consider it payback for that stunt you pulled during our first meeting,” Wooyoung shrugged.

“I just stated the truth,” San protested, but he was grinning just as broadly as Wooyoung by now. It was the longest they had been able to talk since meeting, and the first time without any managers or other people that wanted something from San around. And yet, despite this conversation only having gone on for minutes at most, San was a little thrown off by how comfortable it felt, by how easily he was swayed by the smiles Wooyoung threw his way.

“Sure you did,” Wooyoung hummed. “I was incredibly nervous to _finally_ meet you after years of loving your work and you called me beautiful within the first minute of talking. I don’t consider that ‘letting a man live a little’.”

“I stand by my point that I simply stated the truth. You _are_ too beautiful to hide.”

“ _Aish_ , what are you?” Wooyoung laughed, lightly stomping San’s chest. “The biggest flirt on the planet?”

San grabbed Wooyoung’s hand before he retracted it, enveloping it with his own. “Does it bother you?”

“No,” Wooyoung said honestly, his eyes looking at their joined hands. The entire gesture seemed far too intimate for the situation, but Wooyoung didn’t pull away and San didn’t let go. “But that is assuming you don’t go around flirting with every pretty person you see.”

“I told you before that you’re the first and only person I have done this with,” San retorted. “Do you really think I would get in a fight with my manager to clear my entire schedule for the afternoon, because I had to go to a showcase of a boy I barely know, unless I am absolutely serious about everything I have said and done so far?”

“I wouldn’t know, I barely know you,” Wooyoung smirked. “But you definitely did score points by coming, I’ll give you that.”

“Great,” San laughed. “I did something right, then.”

Wooyoung let out a giggle, a sound so adorable it stabbed somewhere in San’s chest. They were still holding hands and standing far too close for two strangers that had met thrice and hadn’t talked longer than ten minutes in total. Silence enveloped them for a few seconds, in which they simply looked at one another.

It was San that broke the silence, his voice a soft plea as he spoke, “I would really like to get to know you, Wooyoung.”

“I would really like to get to know you too,” Wooyoung shot back and San couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his lips. It was at that moment that someone called his name. Wooyoung smiled apologetically. “But that will have to wait for another time. I have to go wrap things up.”

“That is okay,” San said. “You have my number, so you can text me whenever you feel like it.”

Wooyoung nodded. “Okay.”

He was about to release their joined hands, but San stopped him, using the element of surprise to pull Wooyoung a bit closer. “Promise you will?”

“I promise,” Wooyoung said, voice soft and full of _something_. He smiled again, before San finally allowed him to break from their hold. “Until next time, San.”

And then he was gone, weaving his way through the crowd with ease, catching up with the blonde dancer (Yeosang, San remembered a bit belatedly) and laughing and giggling about things San could no longer hear. He watched until they had disappeared behind the door that would lead backstage and even then, he stayed for another minute or two before he put on his beanie and sunglasses and stepped outside, back into reality.

He felt so light and _happy_ that he didn’t even notice the biting cold that seeped through his sweater as he walked back home.

\--

San was so _done_.

He had just had the longest day discussing contracts and things for the new movie he had _finally_ agreed to. The day had almost felt like an eternity and San was simply glad to be home, with same great takeout in his free hand as a bonus.

He was just settling himself on his couch and diving into his food when his phone buzzed, indicating a new message. “For real?” he grumbled under his breath, already annoyed at whoever was disturbing his peaceful evening.

His annoyance quickly faded, however, once he read the texts, a smile finding its home on his lips instead.

**Unknown number**

okay so

I have been contemplating what to say for the past hour

because this somehow feels random

but anyway

i’m rambling

hi, it’s Wooyoung

[Change Unknown number to Wooyoung? **Yes/** No]

**San**

Hi!

You actually texted

**Wooyoung**

I had promised you i would

i don’t break promises

**San**

I know!

That you promised

Not that you don’t break promises

I’m sorry, I am not making a good first impression

or

fourth, rather

ANYWAY

**Wooyoung**

no please continue

I am really enjoying this

who would have thought that the great Choi San could dig a hole this deep

**San**

;)

I mean…

**Wooyoung**

Did you just…

really make…

a dick joke based on that sentence?

**San**

Yes?

**Wooyoung**

w i l d

**San**

Oh trust me I can be

**Wooyoung**

oh god

**San**

When I feel particularly wild

I put milk before cereal

:)

**Wooyoung**

I

Oh

you heathen

**San**

:)

Sometimes you gotta live dangerously and go crazy

**Wooyoung**

sure if you say so

Somehow I did not expect this to happen

**San**

Are you complaining?

**Wooyoung**

funny enough

no

I am enjoying this weird ass conversation far more than i thought i would

**San**

Great!

Because so am I

So

What are you doing on this fine evening?

**Wooyoung**

I just got home

from practice

so now I am just chilling

and eating takeout

You?

**San**

I just came home from a meeting about a new role

It is cheesy as heck, but I said yes anyway

Gives me the opportunity to dance again

**Wooyoung**

Do you miss it?

Dancing, I mean.

**San**

Honestly?

Yes.

Dancing is what I have done ever since I was little

I like the opportunities it gave me

But I miss it a lot

He watched the familiar bubbles forming, indicating that Wooyoung was typing. The sudden incoming phone call nearly scared the living hell out of him. “Why now?” he groaned to no one in particular as he saw his manager’s ID pop up. He picked up, not in the mood to deal with an unhappy manager later if he would ignore the call now.

“Hey,” he said as he picked up, ignoring the buzzing that indicated he had gotten new messages.

“Are you home safe?” his manager asked from the other side of the line.

“I am. I took a cab from the building,” San answered. His manager often checked in on him, calling it his ‘fatherly senses’. San usually didn’t mind, but right now the call was annoyingly inconvenient. His phone buzzed a couple more times in his hand and San resisted the urge to check the messages. “Is there something particular you needed? I was just about to eat and have an early night.”

“Oh, no. I just wanted to remind you of the photoshoot tomorrow, so you might want to bring an extra set of clothes to change in before you leave the set.”

“I hadn’t forgotten, but thank you,” San said. “Anything else?”

“No,” his manager said, and San could practically hear him shake his head. “Have a good night then. Let me know how the photoshoot and first day on set went.”

“It is just a table read, but I will,” San promised. They said their goodbyes after that and San hung up as quickly as he could, immediately going back to his messages and reading the ones Wooyoung had send him. He chuckled to himself upon reading the minor freaking out Wooyoung seemed to have had in the minutes San had been on the phone.

**Wooyoung**

well

sometimes I have our practice studio for myself

if you want to

you can always join me

and dance to your heart’s content

Okay, the stretched silence is making me nervous.

Forget I said anything.

You probably have your own studio to practice in anyway.

**San**

I’m sorry!!

My manager called to discuss something

I was definitely not gone on purpose!

And if the offer still stands, I would really like to join you one night

I don’t know when I’ll have time

But as soon as I do, I want to join you

**Wooyoung**

For real?

**San**

For real

**Wooyoung**

Okay cool

totally not freaking out right now at that prospect

**San**

Honestly

Same

Your dancing was intimidating

**Wooyoung**

I am so glad you cannot see me right now

Them cheeks are b u r n i n g

**San**

Sad

I wanna see them burning cheeks

It looks hella adorable on you

**Wooyoung**

you just

had to say that

didn’t you

**San**

:)

**Wooyoung**

but if you really want to

we can

uhm

facetime?

**San**

For real?

**Wooyoung**

for real

**San**

God yes

The call connected almost immediately, showing Wooyoung’s face, reddened cheeks and all. San couldn’t help but grin at the sight. Wooyoung looked positively adorable.

“What are you grinning at,” Wooyoung muttered, pressing one hand against his right cheek. San noticed he wasn’t wearing any makeup at the moment, the little mole under his left eye fully noticeable now.

“You and your adorable antics,” San answered easily, still grinning. “Also, petition for you to never cover that mole under your eye ever again.”

Wooyoung poked the mole with a confused furrow between his brow. “My… mole?”

“Yes. It just makes you even more beautiful.”

Wooyoung bit his lip in response, the red on his cheeks more visible now. “You can’t just go around saying those things, San!”

“Sure I can.”

“What if I’d been in public?”

“Would you have minded?”

Wooyoung huffed a laugh, the red in his cheeks lessening. “Probably not.”

“Great,” San smiled. “But if you ever do mind it, let me know? The last thing I want is overstep your boundaries.”

The video shuffled a little, showing movement behind Wooyoung. He was moving, plopping down on some piece of furniture. His hair was mostly straight now, the waves barely there. He still looked absolutely stunning though, in San’s humble and very biased opinion.

“Honestly,” Wooyoung mused, “I think you already overstepped all the boundaries I normally have. But I can’t bring myself to be bothered about it. It doesn’t feel strange or wrong.” And then, as an afterthought, “Is that weird?”

San hummed. “I don’t think so. But that is because I feel the same way. It doesn’t feel like we just met and barely know each other.”

“Exactly,” Wooyoung laughed. He looked relaxed, if a bit tired.

“Though practice?” San asked, making himself comfortable against the plush pillows on his couch.

Wooyoung yawned, making the both of them laugh. “A little. We are preparing a new song and the choreography is pretty intense. But I like that. Gives me a bit of a challenge.”

“Any chance I can see what you’re working on soon?”

“I can send you a video of us practicing later. We always make those, so we can look back and improve.”

“Yes please,” San sighed happily, earning another laugh from Wooyoung.

“You seem far too happy about that idea,” he remarked.

San just shrugged. “I am a simple man and your dancing is amazing. Sue me for wanting to see more of it.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it so much.”

“I did,” San confirmed again, preening in the proud smile that was visible on Wooyoung’s face.

“So,” Wooyoung said, changing the subject, “you said you had a meeting for a new movie?”

“Ah, yes!” San sat up a little straighter. “It is about this student who has lost himself somewhere along the way. The only thing he is still good at is dancing, so that is what he does. And then he meets this pretty girl, who dances well, and she helps him back on track and everyone has a happy ending.”

“ _God_ ,” Wooyoung laughed, “that sounds incredibly cheesy.”

San snorted. “It is. But it will work well with the audience.”

Wooyoung hummed in agreement. “Of course the audience will love it. You’ll be in it.”

San cocked an eyebrow. “Now _who_ is the flirt?”

“I’m just stating facts, San,” Wooyoung said, acting all innocent, but his shit-eating grin gave him away. “Isn’t it weird though,” he continued. “Like, the different love interest with every movie? Always kissing another girl?”

“Sometimes it is,” San admitted. “When there is no chemistry at all between you and your costar and you have to fake being madly in love with them. The kisses themselves are usually not that special.” He paused for a second, debating whether he should share the next piece of information with Wooyoung. It wasn’t a fact most people knew, but then again, he hadn’t exactly been subtle with his flirting around Wooyoung. “But I may be biased. I am gay after all.”

“Really?” Wooyoung didn’t miss a beat. “And here I thought you were more on the bisexual side of life.”

“I thought I was for a while but turned out I am just gay.”

“ _Just_ gay, he says.”

San felt something nervous flutter inside his chest. “Is that an issue?”

“Why would it be,” Wooyoung asked, cocking his head to the side, smiling that beautiful smile that had San weak in the knees, “when I am just as gay?”

San swallowed audibly. “So you’re beautiful, an amazing dancer, _and_ gay? How are you real?”

“Hm, I could ask you the same.”

“Fair,” San chuckled.

Wooyoung moved again, the background becoming blurry. Then, the rustling of sheets as he laid down on his bed, propping a pillow under his head for comfort. “What’s it like, being famous? You don’t have to answer if it is a weird question.”

“No, it’s fine,” San assured him, momentarily losing himself in how beautiful Wooyoung looked. “It is weird, really. All of a sudden people know you and want something from you.”

“Must be scary.”

“Sometimes it is. But my manager is great and helps in keeping my feet on the ground.”

“That’s great.” Wooyoung twisted a little, his nose scrunching up as he readjusted the pillow. “Is the media as bad as they say it is?”

“Yes.” San sighed. “But it also depends on the situation and who are involved. If someone can handle it, it isn’t as bad. But I also had friends and potential lovers that couldn’t handle it and left me. I can’t blame them for it, but it is one of the downsides of being famous.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Wooyoung said softly. “You don’t deserve to go through that.”

Something warm filled San’s chest. “Neither did they,” he said instead, ignoring the fluttering.

“Still, if they were truly your friends, they would have found a way to stay by your side and support you without falling prey to the media.”

San didn’t answer, mulling over the words. He had never thought about it that way. Perhaps Wooyoung was right about some things.

“Look,” Wooyoung said, bringing San’s attention back to the here and now. “All I’m saying is that I couldn’t imagine not supporting you over something that petty. We live in a world where technology is advancing every day and as far as I am concerned, the media still cannot hack into our personal conversations. Maybe I don’t know what I’m talking about, considering I haven’t had a famous friend before, but I do know you are a person worth fighting for - and that is coming from someone that has known you for the shortest amount of time.”

“ _Aish_ , you’re making me all soft and mush now,” San whined. The warmth in his chest was spreading through his body, making him warm and giddy down to his fingertips. It was a pleasant feeling, a feeling that whispered to him he had been right to pursue Wooyoung, even if it had sounded insane at the beginning. “Thank you, though. Not just for your kind words, but also for texting me.”

“You’re welcome,” Wooyoung smiled.

Silence overcame them for a little while, in which they simply looked at one another on the screens of their phones. It was a peaceful silence and San found himself surprised at the lack of awkwardness or discomfort at the sudden lack of talking.

The silence was only broken when Wooyoung yawned again, causing the both of them to laugh again.

“I’m sorry,” Wooyoung muttered, rubbing in his eyes a little. “I think I could fall asleep within seconds.”

“Then go sleep,” San urged him gently, “we can talk again tomorrow, or whenever there is time.”

Something seemed to sparkle in Wooyoung’s eyes. “We can?”

“Of course.” San chuckled, endeared by Wooyoung’s antics. “I really enjoy talking to you, even though I still barely know you yet.”

Wooyoung hummed, his eyes fluttering close for a second or two. “I enjoy talking to you too… You’re different than I expected.”

“In a good or bad way?” asked, smirking a little. He had a feeling he knew the answer.

Wooyoung giggled, pushing his face a little into the pillow to muffle the sound. “Definitely good.”

San couldn’t help it, couldn’t help the shit-eating grin that appeared on his face. “I’m glad,” he said, far calmer than he felt.

“I’m about to pass out for real though,” Wooyoung sighed, the exhaustion suddenly evident in his voice. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

“Text me when you’re awake.”

Wooyoung just hummed something, his eyes closing on their own accord. His breathing was already starting to even out.

“Goodnight, Wooyoung,” San said, unsure whether the other could even hear him at this point.

“G’night, Sannie,” Wooyoung muttered, managing to pry one eye open and throwing San one last smile, before he disconnected the call.

It took San an embarrassing long time to put his phone down and away, the screen having turned dark a long time ago already. He wasn’t sure what he had expected to happen once Wooyoung would text him, but it sure as hell wasn’t the entire conversation that had just happened.

It was strange, really, how he really hadn’t known Wooyoung for a long time, this conversation their longest to date, but it had felt like they had known each other forever. There was a comfort in the way Wooyoung talked to him, in the questions he asked, an honest interest he rarely saw these days. People were often too scared and excited by the prospect of talking to someone that was famous, despite the fact that San simply wanted to be himself during each of those moments.

Wooyoung allowed that, allowed San to act in the ways he would with any friend, and it was liberating in a way San hadn’t known he was missing.

He wasn’t lonely, not by any means, and some friends had stayed by his side throughout the years. But they weren’t with many and above all, they weren’t in the same country, their lives still back home, while San had ventured out into the big world for his career. His schedule made it difficult to go back often, despite his wishes to do so. So, technically, he wasn’t lonely.

But that didn’t stop him from feeling alone every now and then and Wooyoung had easily fitted himself in that feeling, giving the comfort and assurance San needed.

San smiled to himself as he got up from the couch, his phone clutched in his hand, as he moved to get ready for the night as well. Tomorrow would be another early day, filled with the first table read of the script, as well as another appointment later in the afternoon for a photoshoot. The day would be packed from beginning to end, just how San liked it. And now, his day would hopefully be filled with messages from Wooyoung as well.

He already couldn’t wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the first chapter! Comments and kuddos are always greatly appreciated, as they are the drug of a writer, and they might motivate me to update twice a week instead of once :).
> 
> If you want, you can find me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/burtonized).
> 
> Until next chapter!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was easy to lose himself in the music, to lose himself in the moment. But more importantly, it was easy to lose himself in Wooyoung, in the freedom and joy Wooyoung brought along with him, in the care and kindness he gave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own imagination and mistakes.

As promised, Wooyoung texted the next morning once a he was awake, a flurry of texts that merged together into something that resembled a good morning. It was cute, and San told him so. And somehow, from there, texting or calling Wooyoung became as easy as breathing.

They kept on texting throughout the days, always wishing each other a good morning and a good night. On some days, when they were busy with their own life and obligations, the conversations quieted down into simple messages intended to check up on the other. Wooyoung often reminded San to eat some breakfast before leaving the house, while San in turn reminded Wooyoung to take off his makeup before falling asleep. Wooyoung kept his promise and send San practice videos of new dances he was working on, while San in turn send him lots of selfies or small videos from on set. Wooyoung never failed to respond with enthusiastic curiosity.

Other times, their conversations seemed to go on forever, the messages flowing into one another, topics merging together until neither could tell anymore what had started it in the first place.

There was a lot of calling too, in-between the free moments they had or late at night, when they were both tired from their daily activities and simply enjoyed talking about their days - or sometimes about nothing in particular at all.

It was nice and easy, and San loved every single message and call. Over the weeks, he learned a lot about Wooyoung, things he would have never guessed, but found out he liked anyway. In turn, San told a lot about himself, more so than he had with anyone in a long time.

There were deeper conversations too, when they touched upon subjects that had been though for either or the both of them. On one particular night, they had talked about the difficulties of coming out to their respective families. It had been a rather easy experience for San, who had simply told his parents that he liked boys as much as he liked girls, before eventually coming out to them as gay a few years later. For Wooyoung, however, it had been a far less easy experience, with his parents not showing the understanding Wooyoung had needed. It had deepened his bond with his best friend, Yeosang, as the blonde dancer had stayed by Wooyoung’s side, even convincing his own parents to take Wooyoung in for a while, until things at home had calmed down.

It was why Wooyoung was here, and not back home with his family. He had worked long and hard to make the move, and Yeosang had followed him, the both of them wanting to find their happiness elsewhere. It had been difficult at first, the two of them working multiple jobs to not get evicted from their shoddy apartment, but in the end, it had all paid off. They had both been taken in by their current dance crew and were provided with a job they loved and a better place to live.

Wooyoung had explained everything had made him even more thankful for the things he had today. Seeing San perform that one showcase had been the beginning of the change he had always wanted but had never dared to take. It was simply a beautiful coincidence that they had ended up in the same city in the end, and that Wooyoung had managed to get into the meet-and-greet twice.

San, in turn, talked about his insecurities and about how he sometimes felt lonely. He never regretted his decisions, but he missed his family and friends, and there was never enough time to properly visit them. Wooyoung had comforted him throughout that conversation, whispering words of encouragement and kindness that helped San in more ways than one.

It was easy to fall for Wooyoung, when San thought about it. Wooyoung was more than just the beautiful face he had been upon their first meeting. He was a beautiful person on the inside too, with quirky humor and confident moments where he made San go insane beyond words. But there were also the moments where he was all soft and shy, plagued by the tiredness in his body that often lingered after a grueling practice.

They talked about their hopes and dreams of the future and reminisced about the past, finding joy in the differences and similarities in their lives. Wooyoung always looked so radiant when he talked about things like that, his smile so beautiful and wide that San felt himself fall a little deeper.

On the rare occasion San could sleep in a little, they indulged themselves in watching a movie together, while facetiming, giggling all through the moment to press play at the same time. At some point, they had ended up watching a Disney movie, because Wooyoung had said he wanted something happy and wholesome to watch and Tangled apparently was just that. San had been thoroughly surprised to hear Wooyoung had a very pretty singing voice and before either of them had been able to understand what had happened, they were singing along to the songs on the top of their lungs, both surprised by the singing capacities of the other.

Wooyoung started asking San to sing for him from then on, whenever he felt anxious about something or needed to calm his nerves down. San always complied, humming lullabies or singing a popular pop song to help ease the anxiety.

It was what he was doing now, singing the soft words to a song his mother had taught him as a little kid as Wooyoung was still in the dance studio, taking a small break in-between his practices. He had another show coming up soon, one San would be unable to attend considering he would be on the other side of the country for a promotion-related obligation, and Wooyoung was working his ass off the perfect everything. They had given him another center in a new song, and he was diligent in making sure every move would be ingrained into his body as if it was a second nature.

But now, Wooyoung looked all sweaty and tired, visible on the screen of San’s phone, humming contently as San sang the song to him.

“Your voice is so beautiful,” he said after the song had finished, smiling that smile San loved so dear. “I feel very privileged to be able to hear it so often.”

“I am always happy to sing for you,” San responded. He was laying comfortably in his bed, the blankets cocooned around him. The day had been long and tiring, alternating between filming a handful of scenes and more dance practice with the girl that had gotten the lead.

“Hm, I know.” Wooyoung dragged a hand through his hair, the long locks falling back almost instantly. “You always look so happy when you sing.”

“It is because I am singing for _you_.” San wiggled his eyebrow for good measure, earning him a bemused laugh from Wooyoung.

“ _Sure_ , whatever you say Sannie.” Ever since their first call, he would occasionally use the nickname. San had never commented on how much he actually liked it, but Wooyoung had continued to use it anyway, especially at the moments he was merciless and teasing San with full force.

San made a non-committed sound, watching without shame as Wooyoung grabbed a water bottle and gulped the content down, his Adam’s apple bopping up and down. The movement was far more attractive than it should be.

“So,” Wooyoung said, wiping his lips with the back of his hand and placing the lid back on the bottle. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”

“Probably getting home a bit early,” San answered. Tomorrow afternoon was reserved for some extra training for those that didn’t have the dance scenes down yet. San, predictably, wasn’t one of them. “You?”

Wooyoung pushed himself up from where he had been sitting, walking over to where the stereo stood. San only knew because Wooyoung had given him a small tour around the practice room last week.

“Well,” he said, smiling a little nervously. “I have the practice room to myself from the afternoon onward?” It came out more like a question than a fact, and San huffed a laugh.

“Are you sure about that or might that change?” he teased.

“Oh, _shush_. I am trying to invite you to come dance with me, no need to act like the asshole we both know you are.”

“Excuse you,” San said, pretending to be scandalized, “we both know I am an actual angel.”

“Sure, whatever you say.” Wooyoung threw a look at the camera that obviously said he didn’t agree. “Do you want to come tomorrow, or not?”

“Do you even need to ask?”

“ _San_.”

“Okay, yes, I’m sorry,” San said quickly. “I would love to come and see you tomorrow.”

“See,” Wooyoung smirked, “that wasn’t so hard. Next time when someone is trying to invite you, be a dear and respond that kindly immediately.”

San smirked in return. “Never.”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes, but it seemed to be out of annoyed fondness rather than out of actual annoyance. “You are impossible.”

“And yet you keep sticking around.”

“It is a small sacrifice I am willing to make for the greater good.”

“And what is the greater good?” San asked. He settled a bit further into his blankets, ignoring the excited flutter that was building in his stomach at the thought of seeing Wooyoung again tomorrow. Despite having talked every day for the past few weeks, there hadn’t been a proper moment for them to meet up again. Either San was too busy with work during the day, or Wooyoung was in the studio until late, and more often than not, their schedules simply didn’t align. The meeting tomorrow felt long overdue.

“Using you for your fame, of course,” Wooyoung deadpanned, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

San gasped loudly - and very fake at that. “How _dare_ you.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Wooyoung said, smiling broadly again. He wasn’t wearing any makeup again, something he rarely did during his practices, and San never failed to marvel of Wooyoung’s natural beauty. “You messed up my entire scheme.”

San laughed at Wooyoung’s adorable pout, shaking his head in disbelief. “And then you say _I_ am the one that is impossible.”

“Birds of a feather flock together, San,” Wooyoung quipped. “I am going to get a quick shower now, though, because I stink, and I don’t feel like walking around town smelling like sweat and bad takeout.”

“Was the takeout that bad?”

Wooyoung sighed dramatically. “You have no idea. I am never ordering from that place again.” He was moving again, stashing some stuff into his sports bag. His face disappeared from the screen every other second or so. “But I will see you tomorrow then? For real?”

“Yes, Woo,” San assured him. “Just text me the time and address, and I will be there.”

“Okay, great.” There was a black screen for a second and the sound of a bag being zipped closed before Wooyoung’s face came back into view. “Sleep well then, don’t forget to eat breakfast tomorrow.”

“I won’t, don’t worry.” San smiled, always touched at the little gesture. “Text me when you’re home safe?”

Wooyoung hummed. “I will. Alright, I am at the showers -- _God_ , my joints are aching.”

“Go enjoy your shower,” San laughed. “And sleep well, once you’re home.”

“Hm, I will sleep like a baby,” Wooyoung said, sighing happily at the prospect. “Alright, I’m going now. I’ll text you the details later tonight or tomorrow. Night, Sannie!”

“Goodnight, Woo!”

San fell asleep sooner than expected, his phone pressed against his chest, and the remnants of a smile edged on his face the entire night.

\--

The day went by in an agonizingly slow pace. San had awoken before his alarm, which honestly, rarely happened. But he had been too on edge to sleep again, the excitement fueling. The cup of coffee he had with his breakfast (texting Wooyoung to let him know that he was being a good boy and eating before the sun had risen) didn’t exactly help to calm his nerves either.

San wasn’t sure what he could expect, or what he _should_ expect. Talking via the phone was one thing but seeing each other again was another. The last time they had met, San had still been busy trying to convince Wooyoung to text him, but they were so far past that point now. He could honestly say they were friends now, their friendship blossoming over the weeks that had passed by so incredibly fast.

His focus was paper thin, broken by the quietest of sounds, much to the annoyance of the producer.

“San!” he yelled at some point; his features filled with annoyance. “I don’t know where your head is but get it out of your ass or get off of my set.”

San apologized profusely, forcing himself into the headspace he needed for acting. The scenes itself were normally fun to act out, as they were the scenes were there was a big argument before the first kiss between the protagonists. The arguments were fun to act out, as it always allowed San to get into the headspace of someone he normally rarely went. Yelling and screaming wasn’t something he often did, but there was something liberating about pushing everything into yelling scripted lines and making the scene as believable as possible.

It was the kiss that always came afterwards in scenes like this that San dreaded today.

It made no sense, really, that he was feeling so annoyed and unlike himself at the prospect of having to act out the kissing scene today. Scenes likes that had never been an issue, as San had always considered them to be a part of his job. Act it out professionally, get the producer to like it, gain new fans in the process. It was all work-related.

But that was how he had looked at it _before_ Wooyoung had walked into his life. And that made even less sense, considering Wooyoung was just a friend and they had no obligations towards one another.

It frustrated San, and while that frustration worked beautifully in the argument-part of the scene, it didn’t help him with the kiss. After his fifth time of messing it up just before he was supposed to grab his on-screen lover and lock them into a passionate kiss, the producer seemed to have reach his limit.

“For the love of -- _San_ ,” the producer growled, frustration reaching his peak. “Get your head out of your ass, _now_.”

“I’m sorry, okay,” San snapped, taking a step back from the scene. He felt bad for the girl - she wasn’t at fault here in any way. “Just…” He groaned in frustration. “I need a break for a second.”

“You better come back and have your shit together,” the producer warned, and then, in a louder voice: “Y’all can take five!”

San practically stormed off the set, through the double doors that lead to the backstage area. He needed to breathe, needed to clear his head. His phone was in his hand before he knew it, the message already halfway written before his brain registered what he was doing.

**San**

I am losing my mind

And I really need to get my shit together

Before the producer gets an aneurism

San breathed a sigh of relief he hadn’t realized he had been holding when the response was almost immediate.

**Wooyoung**

Would that mean you could meet me sooner?

**San**

Woo, please

**Wooyoung**

sorry sorry

(not actually sorry though)

but is there anything I can do?

maybe tell me why you are freaking out

**San**

They moved the kissing scene to today

It wasn’t supposed to happen until next month

And I can’t

I blank every time I have to go in and kiss her

**Wooyoung**

oh

oh Sannie…

I don’t think i can be of great help here

considering i have never been in your place

but

maybe pretend you are acting out the scene with someone else?

someone you wouldn’t mind kissing

if that makes sense?

**San**

I

fuck

Yes that actually makes sense

Guess I’ll try that and hope for the best then

We’re still on for tonight right?

**Wooyoung**

Good luck!

i know you will nail that scene :)

and yes, definitely!

I’m really looking forward to seeing you

so

you better be here

**San**

Me too

So don’t worry, I will be

Thank you, Woo

I’ll talk to you once I leave the set

**Wooyoung**

Go get ‘m tiger!

San stashed his phone away, trying to push away the guilt that was forming in his chest. He was going to use Wooyoung’s advice, with Wooyoung as the actual person he wanted to kiss. He could do that - it had happened in his dreams often enough, despite him having no idea what it would be like to kiss Wooyoung.

With renewed resolve, he walked back on set, just in time to see the producer call everyone in to continue again. He threw San a look.

“Can you manage to do it right, this time?”

“Yes,” San said, sounding more confident than he felt.

“Great -- Alright, folks! Scene 24, take 6 -- and… _action_!”

San immediately dived into his character, forcing his features to match the words he forced out of his mouth. “I thought I could trust you!” he sneered, taking a bold step forward, watching how his costar took a step backwards.

“You can still trust me,” she said, pleaded almost, and San knew why they had offered her the role. She was an incredibly convincing actress.

“How am I supposed to still trust you after the shit you pulled behind my back?” he yelled, taking another step forward. This time, she didn’t take a step backwards, holding her ground as she cocked her chin in the air, determination and anger on her face.

“Because I love you!” she responded, with the right amount of heartfelt emotions the script called for.

But San didn’t hear it. His mind was busy molding her into someone else, changing her voice until it was deeper, changing her features until they were masculine. It wasn’t his costar yelling she loved him, not in his mind at least. In his mind, it was Wooyoung, looking as beautiful as he always did, and San acted on the instinct his mind provided him, closing the distance between them in two big steps. His hands grabbed her face and he crashed their lips together, pouring what he could give into the kiss.

Part of him wanted to pull away, to never have to kiss her again, but he kept his mind on Wooyoung. The faster he got this over with, the lesser the chance was he had to do it again.

His costar gasped into the kiss, responding in all the right ways, and they only parted once the producer yelled a loud, “ _Cut!_ ”

She smiled at him, before being swept away by the makeup artist that had to touchup her lips and foundation.

By some Godforsaken miracle, the producer was happy with the take, and they moved on to far different scenes after that. Nevertheless, San’s chest felt tight and the guilty feeling didn’t entirely leave his body.

\--

He arrived at the dance studio a little later than he had planned. The producer had wanted to have a quick talk before San had been able to leave, to make sure that San was okay and things like this wouldn’t happen again.

San had assured him that wouldn’t be the case. There had been something on his mind, that was all there had been to it, but the issue was resolved, and he would be able to give his all again, just like the producer wanted.

_Lies, lies, lies_.

The issue felt far from resolved, had probably even gotten worse. Kissing his costar had felt so wrong, in ways San couldn’t even fully comprehend. It had never been this difficult to act out a scene like the one he had to act out today. It threw him off, messed with his head and heart, and made him a nervous wreck.

He threw an anxious glance towards himself in the glass door, before taking a deep breath and pushing the door open. He was dressed rather casually, in sweats and a sleeveless shirt for a top - the outfit currently still covered by his jacket. The weather had been changing the past few days, the last rays of warm sunshine making way for cloudier and colder weather. Not that San saw a lot of the weather these days, considering he was either cooped up on set or at home most of his time.

Inside, it was pleasantly warm. Warm enough that he unzipped his jacket, leaving it to hang open on his shoulders. He was about to walk to the desk on his left and ask the person sitting behind it where he could find Wooyoung, when he saw the blonde dancer from the corner of his eyes, dressed warmly and seemingly ready to go.

“Yeosang, hi,” he greeted the other, redirecting himself and walking over to where Yeosang was fiddling with the straps of his bag.

“What -- _Oh_ , hello San,” Yeosang answered in kind. There was a frown on his face that only lessened once he had managed to pull the straps of his bag just right. “It’s been a while.”

“It really has been,” San agreed. “Do you know where I can find Wooyoung?”

“Down the hall, second door on the right, you really can’t miss it,” Yeosang answered, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He was a pretty dancer, his body lithe but strong, and he had facial features one could considered fairy-like.

“Thank you,” San retorted sincerely, ducking his head in a little bow.

“Anytime.” Yeosang gave a little wave and walked off, stopping after he had made it about two steps closer to the exit. He turned around; his features delicately schooled into a blank face. “I meant what I said last time we met, by the way. I _will_ have your balls if you hurt him.”

San looked at Yeosang, taking in the sight that was playing out in front of him. He could see why Wooyoung held Yeosang in such high regard. Yeosang must care an incredible deal about Wooyoung too, if his actions were anything to go by.

“Don’t worry,” San said earnestly. “I will hand you my balls if I end up hurting him.”

Yeosang narrowed his eyes for a second, but then his face broke into a smile. Not a big one, but it was a smile, nonetheless. “I’m glad we have an understanding.”

He turned quickly on his heels then, putting the hood of his hoody over his head and briskly walked outside. San watched him go, shaking his head in amusement, before he finally turned around himself to find his way down the hall.

Like Yeosang had said, it was hard to miss, considering the second door on the right had the words _main practice room_ in big bold letters painted on it. The door was ajar, the music that was being played slipping through the small space.

The door creaked a little as San pushed it open, but the sound was drawn out by the music. He lingered in the doorway however, momentarily struck by the sight in front of him.

Wooyoung was dancing to the music, losing himself in it. His eyes were closed, a focused and nearly pained expression on his face as his body moved as one with the lyrics and instruments. The song itself was relatively slow, but a violin was playing a sharp tone, faster than the rest of the instruments, and Wooyoung used it as his guideline, his turns and twists in time with the chords of the instrument.

He stopped mid-turn when he opened his eyes and noticed San. San wanted to ask him why he had stopped, but the bright smile on Wooyoung’s face prevented him from doing so. His phone screen hadn’t done that smile justice _at all_.

“San!” Wooyoung exclaimed, suddenly moving forward so fast that San had no time to catch up with what was happening.

Wooyoung flung his arms around San’s neck, standing on his tiptoes to get to the same height, and San’s brain was needing a second or two to reboot and understand what was going on, before he responded, dropping the bag that had been slung over his shoulder and snaking his arms around Wooyoung’s waist instead.

In a way, it felt a lot like coming _home_.

San breathed in Wooyoung’s scent, the lingering cologne mixing with Wooyoung’s natural scent prickling his senses in a good way. Wooyoung simply held on tighter, burying his face in San’s neck and San responded in kind, pulling him closer.

Was this how strangers-turned-friends were supposed to greet each other? They hadn’t seen each other for longer than fifteen minutes in total in real life, making them strangers when it came to the physical aspect of their friendship.

But perhaps the long talks and never-ending conversations had blurred the lines that hadn’t even been really there to begin with - not on San’s side, at least. He had been lost in Wooyoung ever since their first meeting and the past few weeks had only strengthened that feeling.

They stood there for a while, longer than was probably normal for two friends that greeted each other after not having seen one another for a while, but Wooyoung’s bright smile as they finally let go was worth it all. It was worth it to deal with the stammering of his heart, that bordered on the line of painful.

“Hi,” Wooyoung breathed, fiddling with the thin leather bracelets around his wrist. He was dressed in similar clothes as San, in dark sweatpants and a white shirt that clung to his shoulders.

“Hi,” San smiled. “Was that dance part of the new showcase?”

Wooyoung entwined their fingers, pulling San along with him to the other side of the room where the stereo was placed. “No, it is just something I am working on for myself.” He let go of San once they reached it, using both hands to push some buttons on the installation in order to stop the music from playing.

“You looked beautiful,” San said sincerely.

Wooyoung blushed a little and San stopped himself from reaching out, from placing his hands on Wooyoung’s cheeks. “Thank you,” he muttered.

There was something in the air that had never been there during their calls and texts. Something palpable, something San couldn’t quite place. He pushed it away, wanting to focus on the here and now.

“So,” he said, taking off his coat and placing it on the bench that was pushed against the wall, “to what do you want to dance today?”

“Do you still remember that dance you did in that first movie you starred in, together with you costar?” Wooyoung asked, his phone in hand as he scrolled through his music. San nodded. “I want to dance to that together.”

San quirked an eyebrow. “You do realize that routine has a lot of elements where you would need a partner. It won’t look right if we both dance my part.”

Wooyoung played press, the familiar tunes filling the studio. It had been a few years since San had danced to this song, but he could feel his body remembering the steps, his body eager to respond in the ways it knew was right.

“I said I wanted to dance _together_ ,” Wooyoung said, grabbing San’s wrist and pulling him to the middle of the room, where he let go again and got into position. His _costar’s_ position. “I’ll be the partner you need.”

San gaped for a second, before he was able to reel himself back again. “Oh, you’re _on_ ,” he smirked, taking his position as well. The intro was long, and they smirked at each other as they held their positions.

But then the beat changed, and they _moved_. It was easy to fall back into the steps, San’s body remembering the movements with ease. They danced around each other, Wooyoung always just a little out of reach, teasing, taunting, and San followed - always _followed_. He felt himself being thrown back into the familiarity of the dance and the scene, only this time, his costar was Wooyoung, and Wooyoung was a far better dancer than his costar had been at the time. It was exhilarating, to watch Wooyoung twist and turn, to be seduced in the very language San knew best, because this song was all about seduction, about giving and taking in every sense of the words.

The music changed, indicating the nearing bridge that would bring them to the crescendo of the song. San stepped forward, grabbing Wooyoung at the right moment and pulled him close, Wooyoungs leg over San’s hip, and then they dipped, Wooyoung laughing all the way through it.

Sat felt high on affection, and as they twisted and turned together, close and teasing, but never close enough, he felt the urge to close the distance.

It was easy to lose himself in the music, to lose himself in the moment. But more importantly, it was easy to lose himself in Wooyoung, in the freedom and joy Wooyoung brought along with him, in the care and kindness he gave.

And San was so lost - maybe had been ever since they had first met. It wasn’t love, not yet, but he knew he was falling, and he was falling hard. Because it was impossible not to fall for the beautiful boy in front of him, who was smiling all the way through the performance, who knew all the steps to a dance San had performed years ago.

The music stopped abruptly, as it had always done, and they were close, so close, their noses nearly touching, their breathing loud in San’s ears, and he couldn’t help the betraying glance his eyes made downwards, to Wooyoung’s lips. They were parted, sucking in the much-needed breaths they both needed after the intense routine, and San couldn’t help the way his fingers dug into Wooyoung’s sides, where he held him steady, where he held him close.

He wanted this. He wanted this _so_ much, more than he had wanted anything in the world.

It was just a very bad, and very annoying, coincidence that someone knocked harshly on the door at that exact moment.

Wooyoung practically jumped out of San’s hold, throwing an apologetic smile this way, before he walked to the tall guy that stood in the doorway, who was giving San amused side-eyed glances. San thought he had been one of the dancers in the showcase he had seen.

“Yunho,” Wooyoung acknowledged the boy. “Why are you still here?”

“I was practicing for my solo,” the boy, who apparently was called Yunho, explained. “I didn’t know you would stay late tonight. Didn’t you say you needed to take it a bit slower because of your leg?”

“My leg is fine,” Wooyoung assured. “I am taking tomorrow night off. I promised my friend we would practice some old routines tonight. Just for fun.”

Yunho looked at San for another second. San offered him a tentative smile. “Since when are you friends with Choi San?”

“Long story, for which I do not have the time now.”

Yunho smiled, far too kindly in San’s opinion. “Well, be prepared to make some time tomorrow then, because I’m sure the boys would all _love_ to hear about it.” His smile had turned into a shit-eating grin by now, obviously pleased by the leverage he had now.

Wooyoung groaned. “For God’s -- just go, okay? Go annoy Yeosang for answers if you need them, but please, just… go.”

Yunho laughed, ruffling Wooyoung’s hair. “Fine, I’ll be a kind friend and leave you two be.” He focused his attention on San then, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he spoke, “I expect my friend whole tomorrow at practice, alright?”

San couldn’t help but laugh, somewhat endeared by the antics of Wooyoung’s friends. “Don’t worry,” he said, “I will take good care of him.”

Yunho smiled brightly, giving Wooyoung an affectionate pet on the head, and then left as swiftly as he had turned up.

Wooyoung wasted no time closing the door behind him, groaning even louder once it was closed, covering his face with his hands in frustration. “I need some new friends.”

San closed the distance between them, laughing as he pried Wooyoungs hands away. “Your friends love you,” he said. “I met Yeosang on my way in--”

“Oh _no_.”

“-- and he threatened me as well, for the second time.” San grinned, enamored once again by the flush that graced Wooyoung’s cheeks. “We came to an understanding, so no need to worry.”

Wooyoung shook his head. “I am going to kill them. _All_ of them.”

“No, you won’t,” San shot back, releasing their hands that had still been joined. Neither had seemed to really be aware of it.

Wooyoung arched an unimpressed eyebrow. “Aren’t you supposed to be on _my_ side?”

“Oh, but darling,” San mocked, in a similar way Wooyoung had wrecked him during their first meeting, “I already am.”

Wooyoung shoved him, _hard_ , but he was laughing as San stumbled backwards. “You’re an ass.”

“It is one of my charms,” San quipped.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Wooyoung shrugged. “Are you up for learning one of my routines?”

San nodded enthusiastically. “Always.”

They spent the better half of the next hour working on the steps and elements of the dance. It was a fun routine, alternating between quirky moves and moves that were meant to seduce. Wooyoung laughed for two minutes straight when San pulled a face during one of the quirky moves, his face and movements displaying something else completely.

San, on the other hand, fell silent when Wooyoung explained how to do one of the more seductive moves. He cocked his hips out to the side by twisting his feet from one side to the other, his hand moving over his crotch in time with it. His gaze was dark and alluring as he looked at his reflection in the mirror, smirking when he dragged his hand across his bottom lip.

San felt hot all over, had to ignore the urge to pine Wooyoung against the mirror and have his way with him. Instead, he redirected the urge into his movements, copying the nearly filthy move Wooyoung had been doing.

Wooyoung made a noise in the back of his throat. “You could get ladies pregnant with that move,” he remarked dryly.

San threw him a look. “So could you.”

They danced the routine a couple of times, until they were both sweating and laughing, no longer able to keep a straight face as their seductive moves had become increasingly ridiculous with each dance they did.

Their giggles filled the hallway once they finally left the studio, bags slung over their shoulder, to get to the showers. Even there, their conversation continued on, Wooyoung talking about the dance crew animatedly. He was close to four other guys he and Yeosang had met upon being recruited (Yunho included) and he talked fondly about them, about all the silly things they did, despite most of them being older than Wooyoung.

Even when they stepped into their respective shower, only a thin wall separating them (and San tried really hard _not_ to think about that fact), they continued talking, their laughs echoing off the walls.

“Sounds like you and Yeosang found a new family here,” San commented as he washed the remaining soap off his body.

Wooyoung hummed fondly, the sound low and vibrating through the room. “We really did. Hongjoong, that smaller dancer, is basically our dad. The rest of us are a bunch of unruly kids.” He laughed a little at that. “We really give him a hard time sometimes, but no one would have it any other way.”

“It sounds really nice.” San smiled, despite Wooyoung not being able to see it, and perhaps that was why there was a sadness tainting his smile. It sounded like a family San craved but would probably never have.

Wooyoung, however, thought differently. “You know,” he said, somehow picking up on the sadness in San’s voice even if San himself hadn’t been aware of it. “We are pretty chill. We don’t care that you’re famous - I know I don’t.” He shut off his shower. “If you’d like, I can talk to them, ask if they’re okay with you joining us for practice more often.”

San shut his shower off too. “You would be willing to do that?” he asked, his voice soft. Would Wooyoung really be okay with inviting San into the family he had found?

“Of course, Sannie,” Wooyoung assured him. The door to his shower opened, the sounds of feet shuffling over tiles resonating through the room.

“I would like that,” San admitted, quickly drying himself. He didn’t want to keep Wooyoung waiting. He ignored the strange fluttering in his chest, a feeling of longing and want that was different than what he had felt before.

He stepped outside his stall, fresh set of clothes on his body, only to - _again_ \- stop halfway in his tracks. Wooyoung was rummaging through his locker, dressed in a clean pair of sweats only, his torso very much naked. San swallowed, unable to tear his eyes away from the toned muscles that flexed and relaxed under Wooyoung’s movements.

Wooyoung was muttering under his breath, clearly searching for something he couldn’t find. “I thought… No -- _argh_ \-- where is it?”

San managed to get himself out of his stupor somehow. “You okay?” he asked, taking a step closer, but keeping a respectable distance, acting like he most definitely hadn’t been checking out Wooyoung’s naked chest two seconds before.

“I thought I had another spare shirt in here,” Wooyoung explained, vaguely motioning towards his locker. “But I can’t find it.”

He must really be going insane, but San was opening his bag before he knew it, rummaging through it for a second or two before he found what he was looking for. “Here, just wear this,” he said, holding out the shirt for Wooyoung to take. “It is clean, I promise.”

Wooyoung looked between the shirt and San, before stepping forward and taking the shirt, swiftly pulling it over his head. The fit was a bit different on Wooyoung than it was on San, but in San’s opinion, it looked better on Wooyoung than on himself.

“Thank you,” Wooyoung said earnestly. “I’ll return it to you as soon as possible, washed and everything.”

“Don’t worry about it. Just give it back whenever.” He pulled on his jacket, not closing it yet.

A smile tugged at Wooyoung’s lips as he pulled at the material of the shirt and breathed in. “It smells like you,” he muttered, and San felt his sanity actually leave his body. Was Wooyoung aware of the things he did to San? Because San himself wasn’t even sure of anything at this point anymore.

His body felt heavy and warm as he opened the door for the both of them, allowing Wooyoung to slip through it first.

Wooyoung was shrugging on his coat as well as he waited for San to close the door, hoisting his bag over his shoulder once he was done. “When are you leaving again?” he asked.

“The day after tomorrow,” San answered. “I have an early flight.”

They fell in line with each other, matching their steps to a relaxed pace. There was some time to spare and San wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet.

“How long will you stay there?”

“At least two weeks,” San sighed. “Maybe longer, depending on whether certain things go according to plan.”

Wooyoung looked at him. “Is that why they moved around that scene you had to act out today?”

“Yeah.” San sighed again, feeling the guilt wash back over him as he thought back to it. Not only had he been somewhat an ass towards his costar, he had also bothered Wooyoung with it. “I’m sorry, by the way, for texting you about it. I just… I didn’t know what to do.”

Wooyoung placed his hand on San’s arm, making them stop halfway down the hallway. The door to the main practice room was just on their left.

“I’ll always be there if you need me, okay?” he said softly, looking up, locking their eyes together. And then, even softer, “Did it work out in the end?”

The world felt like it stopped turning at that point, as if it was just them and no one else. Perhaps it was, perhaps at least for now. San’s heart was beating loudly in his chest, loud enough that he could hear it in his own ears.

“Yes,” was all he managed to say, his throat suddenly so _dry_. He licked his lips nervously, not missing the way Wooyoung followed the movement with his eyes.

_What was happening?_

Wooyoung leaned in a little, the strap of his bag sliding down his arm, but either he didn’t notice, or he didn’t care, because he didn’t respond to it in any way. He was close now, close enough that San could feel Wooyoung’s breath on his face.

“Who were you thinking of when you kissed her?” Wooyoung asked, his voice barely more than a loud whisper.

San couldn’t think properly, his brain malfunctioning and frying with every second that passed. The urge to close the distance was dangerously high, pumping through his veins in a way that made him delirious with want.

So close. They were _so close_.

“You,” San choked out, feeling his self-restraint snap. “I was thinking of _you_.”

He crashed forward, his bag falling to the floor, Wooyoung’s following a second later, as he captured Wooyoung in a bruising kiss.

There was nothing sophisticated about it, in the way San pushed them backwards until Wooyoung was pinned against the door of the practice room, in the way San’s fingers dug in Wooyoung’s cheeks, keeping him there, keeping him _close_.

But Wooyoung only responded in kind, his hands balled up in fists and grasping the soft material of San’s shirt, pulling San closer, kissing him just as bruising.

It was messy, all tongue and teeth, playful nips that bordered on the line of painful, but all San could think was _more_. If Wooyoung was a drug, San was already addicted to it, losing himself in the taste that was unmistakably Wooyoung.

He growled into the kiss, his fingers entangling themselves in Wooyoung’s long hair, pulling harder than he had intended, but Wooyoung let out a shaky sound, not yet a moan, but close enough, and San wanted to hear it again.

Wooyoung responded so eager, matching San in everything he did. His hands had somehow found their way underneath San’s shirt and his nails were pressing pleasingly painful in San’s back.

San kept one hand firmly in Wooyoung’s hair, reveling in the gasps that escaped Wooyoung every time he pulled, his other hand shamelessly exploring Wooyoung’s body, gliding down the curve of his hip, gripping tight there, pressing their hips together.

God, how he _wanted_.

But Wooyoung let go before things got too far, releasing his bruising grip, looking thoroughly wrecked, his lips wet and bruised as he heaved in shaky breaths.

San felt dizzy with a whiplash of desire and want, his head clouded with thoughts that barely made any sense at all. He was breathing just as heavy, and he too released his bruising grip. They were still standing close, so close it felt intoxicating, but they were no longer touching, the both of them needing the moment of separation to reel themselves back in.

He stayed silent, unsure of what to say, opting to wait for Wooyoung to make the first move.

Wooyoung smiled a little nervously, still trying to calm his breathing. “I sincerely hope that is _not_ how you kissed your costar.”

San snorted a laugh, feeling the strange tension that had been building between them immediately deflating, and wrapped one hand around Wooyoung’s head, the other around his waist, and pulled the younger close again. He smelled like that body wash the showers had been stocked with, something floral and fresh. “Of course not,” he reassured, smiling when he felt that Wooyoung was making himself comfortable in the embrace. “It wasn’t you who I had to kiss.”

“ _Aish_ ,” Wooyoung muttered. “You really are the biggest flirt on this entire planet.”

“Only for you, though,” San countered, pressing a kiss against Wooyoung’s temple for good measure.

Wooyoung leaned back a little, to look San in the eyes. “Really?”

San nodded. “Really.”

Wooyoung’s cheeks were tinted again, but he leaned forward anyway, capturing San’s lip in another kiss. It was softer this time, far less frantic and primal, but not any less enjoyable.

Kissing Wooyoung was addicting, in every possible way. There was something in the way Wooying kissed, in the way he touched, in the way he loved, and San was so incredibly whipped for it all.

They eventually parted, because as much as they both might want to stay in this moment, the world hadn’t stopped turning and time hadn’t stopped ticking.

“I kinda really hate that you have to leave so soon,” Wooyoung confessed as they parted long enough to grab their bags from where they had fallen on the floor. San held his hand out afterwards and Wooyoung grabbed it, seemingly without a second thought.

It was funny how easy it felt, to reach out and seek the physical intimacy San suddenly craved. But then again, everything had been easy with Wooyoung once they actually had started talking. From the very first text, to their very first kiss and everything in-between - it had all been _easy_.

“Me too,” San agreed, because he found himself not wanting to leave. But where he might have been able to reschedule an entire Saturday afternoon for that one showcase, there was no way he could reschedule an entire two weeks’ worth of schedule. His manager would skin him alive. “But I’ll be back before you know it. And we can still text and call.” He squeezed their joint hands. “It’s just the other side of the country, hardly the end of the word.”

“You say that _after_ you kissed every rational sense out of me.”

San quirked an eyebrow. “You should have thought about that then before you decided to rile me up all night with your dancing. You nearly made me go insane.”

Wooyoung smirked. “As if you didn’t like it.”

“As if you didn’t like the kiss,” San shot back and they both laughed at that.

“Can we do this again thought, once your back?” Wooyoung asked after their laughter had quieted down.

“What, kissing?”

Wooyoung punched against San’s bicep. “ _No_ \-- wait, no, yes, that too.” He made a frustrated noise and punched again. “Stop making me all flustered! I meant dancing. I want to dance again with you.”

They were standing in front of the glass door that lead outside, the desk on the side no longer occupied. The building was deserted, apart from them, most of the lighting already dimmed.

“We can do whatever you want,” San said, smiling at the way Wooyoung’s face lit up. “But to properly answer your question: yes, we can dance again. I’d love to, actually.”

“And kissing?”

San huffed a laugh, shaking his head in amusement. “Anytime you want.”

Wooyoung leaned in as response, kissing San again with a similar passion their first kiss had had. It wasn’t as filthy, as somehow Wooyoung seemed to have enough brain function to know it wouldn’t be a great idea to press further into their wants and needs than was necessary now, but it still made San dizzy with that addicting feeling that hadn’t left his body since he had arrived here.

The kiss slowed eventually, until it was nothing more than a few light pecks. San placed a small kiss on the tip of Wooyoung’s nose, earning a surprised giggle from Wooyoung.

“Wait for me until I get back?” San asked, not yet daring to ask for something more official than that.

Wooyoung’s smile was so beautiful and bright. “I’ll be here,” he promised, giving San one last lingering kiss before they finally managed to untangle themselves so they could leave the building.

The weather had grown considerably colder in the time they had been inside the studio and San felt a shiver run down his spine. He really should have brought a thicker jacket.

Wooyoung locked the studio behind them, placing the keys in one of the pockets of his bag.

“Text me when you get home safe, okay?” San asked. They would both go the opposite way, San having to go left, and Wooyoung having to go right.

Wooyoung nodded. “You too.”

“I will,” San promised, closing the distance between them one more time for a soft goodbye kiss. “I’ll see you when I get back,” he muttered against Wooyoung’s lips, stealing one last one before he pulled away.

“I’ll miss you,” Wooyoung said, and the sincerity in his voice were so evident that San was ready to drop everything and cancel the trip. But he couldn’t, he knew that much.

“I’ll mis you too,” he said instead, and he meant it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there is the second chapter! Thank you all so much for reading this fic, for leaving kudos and for taking the time to comment. It really made me want to put out this chapter sooner than I originally planned, because this contained one of my favourite scenes to write. 
> 
> The next chapter should be up either somewhere next Thursday or next Sunday, depending on whether I will have the time to proofread and upload it. 
> 
> Until then, thank you again and until next chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I really wish you were here,” he said, his eyes still closed, and something inside San’s chest tugged - hard.
> 
> He wanted to be there, to kiss every inch of Wooyoung, to give him everything he deserved and more.
> 
> “Me too,” San admitted, his voice trembling a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up bitches, because this ride is about to get wild. The wonderful Rai advises you all to have some tissues ready, so be warned.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own imagination and mistakes.

Funnily enough, while many things felt different now that San had (finally) been able to kiss Wooyoung, not many things actually changed.

They still talked a lot throughout the day, as they had done ever since they had started texting. The only difference was that Wooyoung incorporated a lot more emoticons in his messages, at least the first day after their kiss, through which he seemed to want to convey his giddy emotions.

San, never one to back down from something, responded in kind, and soon he was laughing in the comfort of his own trailer and their silly antics. It was nice that this hadn’t changed between them; that they were still capable of being their silly selves.

Wooyoung started sending more pictures throughout the day though, either from things he saw on his way to the dance studio, or selfies of himself or of his group of friends. San had recognized Yeosang and Yunho, and Wooyoung had scribbled the names of the rest underneath the picture, even if his sweet attempt hadn’t been worth the trouble in the end. Yunho had managed to get a hold of Wooyoung’s phone and had facetimed San without shame, the five of them all doing their best attempt at embarrassing Wooyoung. They all introduced themselves though, and where Yeosang and Yunho had threatened San to not hurt Wooyoung and be careful with him, the others did no such thing.

The conversation between all seven of them had flowed surprisingly easily, with Wooyoung’s friends not at all bothered or impressed by San being a famous person. They simply complimented him on his dancing, a favor San was eager to return in kind, and then they were off being silly and goofy, including San in the jokes they were telling.

Wooyoung had apologized profusely once he had finally managed to get his phone back, but San had assured him it was okay. It was nice to know that Wooyoung had such a great group of friends surrounding him and San was happy that they were, as Wooyoung had said, a bunch of chill people.

It was also a bit scary though, how everything just felt so _right_. San had never felt like this before about anyone, and he wasn’t even sure where he and Wooyoung were standing at this point. Sure, they had kissed (multiple times, even), and San had asked Wooyoung to wait for him, but technically, _officially_ , they were nothing.

But San decided to put that out of his mind. He had a busy schedule ahead, something he had already told Wooyoung, and there were some events where he actually needed to stay focused, mingling with the right people in order to get some new connections.

He had just texted Wooyoung to let him know his flight was about to take off and that he wouldn’t be able to respond for a little while. He smiled at the instant message he received, despite the early hour, where Wooyoung wished him a safe flight, including a cute emoticon, and put his phone on flight mode afterwards.

“You seem awfully happy,” his manager remarked. The older man had made it clear he would join San on this trip to the most important meetings, to make sure everything would go alright.

“Just a text someone send me,” San said in lieu of an explanation. He hadn’t exactly told his manager about Wooyoung yet, despite knowing his manager had some suspicions. But San didn’t feel like sharing yet, wanting to figure out what they were and where they stood before he would gently coax Wooyoung into his world of fame and fortune.

His manager made a noise, but dropped the issue, putting in his headphones, a clear indication that the conversation was over - for now at least.

San plugged his headphones in as well, letting his Spotify run on shuffle mode, losing himself in the familiar beats and thoughts of Wooyoung until the plane landed.

He sent Wooyoung a text as soon as he could, receiving a bunch of happy texts in return, as well as another picture of him with the entire group. They were having their rehearsal for the showcase that would happen on the weekend, Wooyoung said in his text.

San quickly sent a reply back, before locking his phone and focusing on getting off the plane in one piece. It was always a bit crowded, especially since he used commercial flights for things like this, and there were always people that recognized him at some point. It was why not only his manager, but one of his bodyguards was with him as well. It was just a precaution his manager liked to take whenever they went somewhere. San was grateful for how much his manager cared for San’s wellbeing, but sometimes it was a bit suffocating to not have a moment for himself. It was what he disliked most about obligations like this, as he felt like he was watched 24/7.

But he was told he had a hotel room for himself, and that was a small blessing in its own right.

They got their luggage, more than any normal person would take with them on a two-week trip, and San put on his sunglasses. The media was aware of this trip, which meant they would obviously be waiting for him here. They had done so at the departure as well, and San had grown accustomed over the years to the bright flashing of cameras. His sunglasses were just a form of protection, however small it may be.

It wasn’t as bad as it had been with some other flights, and they were able to reach their van with relative ease. San had smiled and waved to the handful of fans that had welcomed him, ignoring the paparazzi trying to get his attention.

From there, it was a whirlwind of getting to different places. First, there was an interview about his latest movie, not the one he was currently working on, as well as a photoshoot. Then, he was swept away to another interview for a magazine, which wasn’t related to any of his movies. There was barely any time to think or breathe in-between everything, and San got so swept up in everything that he didn’t have to time to text Wooyoung.

By the time he was actually in his hotel, he was exhausted to his bone, the early flight catching up with him, and he texted Wooyoung as much, already passing out before he could get a response back.

There was little time in the following days to sit and catch up, as San was busy with his own obligations, and Wooyoung was practicing until his bones ached, holed up in the studio for hours on end with the crew. They still texted each other their usual good morning and good night, but the conversation in-between was far less than normal.

It was to be expected, but San greatly disliked it. He wanted nothing more than to shower Wooyoung with the attention he deserved, but there was simply not enough time, and by the time San finally got back to his hotel room, Wooyoung was either still practicing, or too tired to keep a conversation for longer than five minutes.

It was fine, they both agreed. It was how things were and neither could do anything about it for now.

It was at the end of the first week, on the day of Wooyoung’s showcase, that San finally had some time for himself. But luck was cruel, and Wooyoung barely responded to anything, apologizing extensively because they were busy with some last-minute preparations. San understood, because of course he did, but he still groaned in frustration at their lack of compatible schedule.

He wished Wooyoung luck though, telling him to extend it to the rest of the group as well, and he had gotten a selfie back in response, of Wooyoung doing a thumbs up, all dressed in his stage outfit (including a thin choker that had driven San more than a little crazy), and then suddenly, he was alone in his hotel room, with no one to talk to. He took the opportunity to take a long shower and catch up on some Netflix series after that.

He must have dozed off though, because when he woke to his phone making a sound, indicating that there was a new message, he jumped a little. There was a notification on the screen of his laptop, asking him if he was still watching. Rubbing a little in his eyes at the discomfort of having fallen asleep with contact lenses in, San closed the laptop and pushed it away, blindly grabbing for his phone in the process.

He sat up once he saw that Wooyoung had messaged him. More than once, actually, in the span of what must have been half a minute.

**Wooyoung**

Sannieeee

sannie san

are you thereee

shit youre proably asleep

probably*

typing is hard

so is something else

:)

San read the messages one, two, three times, and he still didn’t understand what was happening. Was Wooyoung actually referring to having a hard dick?

_What the hell_?

No new message came, but Wooyoung stayed online, and San hesitated. He could just pretend he was asleep, think this through.

But did he want to think this through?

It would be a very fat lie to say he hadn’t thought about Wooyoung that way, because he very obviously _had_. It was nearly impossible not to think about Wooyoung that way, with the way he could act, both in his routines and in real life. There had been more than one practice video where San had felt the familiar heat creeping up on him, as he watched how Wooyoung swayed and turned his hips, intoxicating the imaginary audience.

But that didn’t mean that San wanted to take advantage of the situation, not by any means. He decided to be somewhat responsible, at least, and see where this was heading. Worst case scenario, he would tell Wooyoung to get some sleep and they could deal with whatever this was at a later time, when they were both sober.

**San**

I’m awake

**Wooyoung**

i

fuck

msorry

did i wake you??

**San**

You didn’t, no worries

Are you drunk, Woo?

**Wooyoung**

noooooooooooooo

maybe a lil tipsy

we had drinks after the

whatsitcalled

showcase! thats the word

now im home

and alone

and i miss you

**San**

I miss you too, Woo

But I think it might be better if we talk tomorrow

When you’re sober

I don’t want you to do things you wouldn’t do when you were sober

**Wooyoung**

im not doing anything i wldnt wna do

please stay

i rly miss you

fuck sannie

i wish u were here

i

fuck this

[ _img_8052_ ]

San stared at the image, longer than he probably should have, unable to hold back the arousal that was starting to fill his veins. Wooyoung looked… fucking amazing. He was still wearing that damn choker, but had apparently gotten rid of his shirt, as he was naked from the waist up. Not that it was any better from the waist down, as the thin material of his tight pants did very little in disguising the prominent outline of Wooyoung’s dick.

Wooyoung’s very hard dick.

San swallowed, feeling his resolve already crumble. Fuck, how he wanted this too. But he shouldn’t, he shouldn’t take advantage of Wooyoung like this. What if he was drunker than he anticipated, doing things now he would be regretting later?

**San**

Woo are you sure you want to be doing this?

Tipsy is also a form of being drunk, y’know

**Wooyoung**

[ _vid_6932_ ]

San clicked, against his better judgement, on the video. Rustling sounds immediately filled the hotel room, as Wooyoung’s beautiful face came into view. He was still wearing his makeup from the show, dark colors that deepened his already dark eyes. “Sannie,” he breathed, angling the camera just so that San got a great view of his naked torso and aroused dick straining against the tight pants.

_Fuck_.

He couldn’t click away, his eyes glued to the screen as he watched how Wooyoung started palming himself through his pants, making the moist beautiful sounds.

Wooyoung arched into the touch, biting his lip as he pressed harder, his breathing becoming uneven. “San,” he whined. The sound went straight to San’s dick, which was starting to throb painfully in his sweats. “Please, San,” Wooyoung went on, his eyes fluttering open and staring straight into the camera, straight into San’s very _soul_ , and San found it impossible to look away, to do anything but stare at the beautiful male on his screen.

Nearly subconsciously, his hand had moved down and he was palming himself through his sweats as he watched how Wooyoung pleasured himself, gripping his dick through the material, moaning a little broken sound, before he sneaked his hand under the waistband of his pants, choking on another moan as he grabbed his dick.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Wooyoung blurted, then giggled, “These pants need to go.” He looked into the camera again, smirking something dangerous. “Pity you’re not here to help me,” he smiled, looking so beautiful, his hair messy from his pillow, his dick still straining against his pants. “because I _really_ want this.”

The video stopped abruptly there, the screen frozen on the smirk Wooyoung had thrown towards the camera, and San felt too hot, too _everything_ , his dick impossibly hard.

_Fuck_.

He was so incredibly fucked. Every rational thought went out of the window as he grabbed his phone with one hand, his fingers shaking as he typed a reply.

**San**

Fuck Woo

You are making me go insane

**Wooyoung**

then do smthing about it

;)

San was calling before he knew he was; Wooyoung picked up within the first ring.

“What do you want me to do about it then?” San asked, dropping his voice a little. He was palming himself through the thin material of his sweats, arching into the touch a little. Fuck, he was so hard. The effect Wooyoung had on him was ridiculous.

Wooyoung was breathing a little shakily already, movements sounding in the background. The rustling of sheets, the opening of a drawer. “Tell me what you would do if you were here now,” he breathed into the speaker.

“Oh baby,” San replied in kind, slipping his hand under the waistband of his sweats. He really needed to get rid of the offensive material soon. It was starting to get in the way.

Wooyoung let out a soft moan at the nickname. “Say that again,” he muttered, sounding already thoroughly wrecked.

“Baby,” San repeated. “Do you think you can handle what I’d do to you?” He shimmied out of his pants and underwear, breathing at the sweet relief.

“God, _yes_.” More sounds, a cap being opened. _Lube_ , San’s lust-hazed brain helpfully provided. “I can be so good for you, San. _Please_ , let me be good for you.”

“Let me see you,” San urged before he could overthink his words. The call immediately switched to video.

San was _not_ prepared for the sight he saw on his screen.

Wooyoung was naked now, the little choker the only piece of material on his body, and he was already hard and leaking in his own hand. His gaze was hazed, glazed over with lust, his lips slightly parted. San cursed loudly.

“Wish you were here,” Wooyoung muttered again, his hips thrusting up a little in his own hand.

“Imagine it’s me then,” San said, watching how Wooyoung’s eyes fluttered at that, jerking up in his own hand as he watched Wooyoung come undone right in front of his eyes. “Imagine I’m the one jerking you off. But I would do more than that, baby. I would kiss you all over, marking you so everyone knows you’re _mine_.”

Wooyoung gasped loudly, “ _Yes_.”

“I would work you open so slowly, until you’re a begging mess for me.”

“Fuck, yes, San,” Wooyoung moaned. He was thrusting harder, his hand slick with lube and precum. “I want you to fuck me, _need_ you to fuck me.”

San couldn’t hold back the whimper that escaped him, picking up his own pace as well. “You’d take my dick so good, baby, I know you would. You’d look so beautiful, splayed out on the bed underneath me, getting fucked by me.”

Wooyoung moaned, muttering something incomprehensible. He looked so _gone_ , his lips parted, his lungs taking in heavy breaths. Sweat was glistening on his skin and San wanted nothing more than to actually take this boy apart, to give him everything he deserved and more.

“That’s it, baby,” he praised, feeling the sweet buildup of release nearing. _Not yet_. Wooyoung had to come first. “Come for me, Woo, show me you can be good.”

Wooyoung was thrusting up in sharp thrusts, desperately seeking the friction he needed to find his own release. His moans were loud and absolutely _filthy_ , but all they did was send bolts of pleasure straight to San’s dick. So close, he was _so close_.

Wooyoung came, nearly screaming San’s name, his body convulsing a little with the impact as his orgasm rippled through him, come getting all over his chest.

San came at the mere sight of that, groaning as his orgasm rippled through him, his body and mind feeling better than they had in days.

Wooyoung had his eyes closed, his makeup smudged around the edges now, but he was smiling broadly. “Fuck, that was good,” he rasped, voice a little horse from his loud moaning.

San hummed in agreement; his brain unable to come up with a coherent response. He was sweaty, his abdomen covered in his own come, and he knew he would have to get up soon and get himself clean.

But for now, he allowed his eyes to be glued to the screen, to watch with far too many feelings how Wooyoung smiled through the aftermaths of his own orgasm, his lips parted as he sucked in greedy breaths.

“I really wish you were here,” he said, his eyes still closed, and something inside San’s chest tugged - _hard_.

He wanted to be there, to kiss every inch of Wooyoung, to give him everything he deserved and more.

“Me too,” San admitted, his voice trembling a little. He blamed it on the aftermath of his own orgasm but knew deep down it had to do with the amount of feelings that were cursing through his body right now. Feelings for Wooyoung.

Wooyoung groaned, pushing himself up a little and wiping away the come on his own stomach with the underwear he had thrown aside, somewhere in-between making that video and accepting San’s call.

“You know it’s better if you _actually_ clean that, right?” San joked, resisting the urge to do the exact same and calling it a day. He knew he would feel all sticky and gross in the morning and he did not have the time to deal with it then, considering his schedule was still packed.

“Don’t care,” Wooyoung muttered, flopping on his side and dragging a bit of the blanket over him.

San forced himself to get up and walk to the bathroom, in search of a cloth or towel he could use to clean himself with. He propped his phone on the sink, smiling at the sight on his screen. Wooyoung was adorable. “Don’t forget to take off your makeup, babe,” he said, wetting the towel he had used earlier to dry himself after his shower, which had been thrown in a corner.

Wooyoung hummed contently. “I like it when you call me that.”

San stopped halfway in his movement, the towel now just pressing against his stomach. “You do?”

“M’yeah,” Wooyoung hummed again.

San cleaned his stomach, throwing the towel in the corner again once he was done, and set himself to the task of brushing his teeth while he was at it.

“When will you be back?” Wooyoung asked, suddenly sounding far more coherent and sober than he had the entire night.

“In a week,” San answered, after having spit out the toothpaste.

“Can I pick you up from the airport?”

San halted in his movements ( _again_ ), to blink at his phone, thrown off by the question. “You want to… pick me up from the airport?”

Wooyoung nodded, nuzzling further into his blankets. “Can I?”

“I wish you could,” San smiled sadly. “But I expect there to be a lot of paparazzi, and both my manager and bodyguard will be there too. I don’t think I’ll have any say in how I get home.”

“Oh.”

_Yeah_ , San thought a bit bitterly. _Oh, indeed_.

It was a bitter reality, a reality that showed the downsides of San’s fame. He would have loved for Wooyoung to come pick him up at the airport, but as it was, it was better if he didn’t. He could already envision the headlines that would undoubtedly form, and he had no intention to drag Wooyoung down that path this early in whatever the hell they were.

“Can I see you once you’re home, then?” Wooyoung pressed on.

San smiled, grabbing his phone and walking back to the bed, getting himself comfortable under the sheets as well. “Of course you can.”

Wooyoung smiled, but it was obvious his body was succumbing to the inevitable tiredness. “Sannie?”

“Yeah?”

“I…” Wooyoung licked his lips, his features nervously shifting, before he shook his head and smiled again. “Sleep well.”

San swallowed, wondering whether Wooyoung had wanted to say something else. “You too,” he said, ignoring the loud thumbing of his heart. “Dream of me?”

Wooyoung huffed a laugh, but it lacked any power. “Already do, Sannie… Already do.”

\--

The remained of the week passed in a blur of meetings, events, interviews, and talking to Wooyoung in every possible spare time.

Neither had specifically mentioned their little… adventure over the phone, but something has changed in their relationship. For starters, they now talked even more than before, Wooyoung always eager to hear about San’s adventures. San, in turn, always asked how practice was going or what Wooyoung was doing on his rare days off. Their conversations turned more suggestive too, venturing into a territory that had been off-limits before they had somewhat suddenly crossed that line.

Not to mention the pictures Wooyoung kept on sending.

Wooyoung had always liked to send selfies, group shots, and videos of him practicing, but this had always been recorded in the comfort of the dancing studio, surrounded by his friends. Now, however, Wooyoung often send pictures of himself practically anywhere, including half-naked in bed.

San had been in-between meetings when he’d received that particular picture, Wooyoung innocently looking up into the camera, his torso incredibly naked and the waistband of his underwear clearly visible.

San had needed more than five minutes to calm himself down enough to _not_ walk around with a boner, after hurrying himself off to the bathroom. He had quickly texted Wooyoung back that the younger would be the death of him, to which Wooyoung had replied with another selfie, just to mess with San even more.

He had turned his phone in flight mode from then on during important meetings and interviews, not trusting himself to keep himself from looking if he’d feel the familiar buzz of an incoming new message.

Needless to say, San couldn’t wait to get home, so he could _finally_ see Wooyoung again.

It was the day before his scheduled flight, and San was rummaging through the ridiculous pile of clothes he had with him. His phone was propped up against the suitcase that lay open, more clothes out of it than in, Wooyoung on the other end of the videocall.

“I hate these events,” San confessed, growing more and more frustrated with his own inability to pick something out. There was a red-carpet event tonight, nothing majorly fancy, but considering he was in town, he had been invited, both to the event and the afterparty afterwards. In general, it was an excuse for famous people to come together and get smashed in a relatively private setting.

Normally, San wouldn’t have minded, enjoying the opportunity to mingle with people that were in a similar situation as him. But that was before he had met Wooyoung, before he had wanted to go home as soon as possible.

“Will there be many famous people?” Wooyoung asked, ignoring San’s comment. San had uttered the same sentence more than a handful of times in the past ten minutes and Wooyoung had stopped feeling sorry for San after the first minute of whining.

San held up a shirt, checking himself in the small screen of his view, chucking it aside almost immediately. _Definitely not_.

“As far as I know some small awards will be given out,” San shrugged. Apart from the actual big events, he hardly ever took note of what happened during the smaller ones. “And before you ask, no, I wasn’t nominated. My last film wasn’t award-worthy.”

Wooyoung puffed his cheeks a little before letting the air flow out of his pouted lips. The sound should not be this adorable. “I call bullshit.”

“You’re biased.”

“Doesn’t make my opinion any less valid.”

“Also doesn’t make that movie and my performance award-worthy.”

“You are impossible,” Wooyoung sighed, rolling his eyes. “Do you have to wear a suit?”

San shook his head, his eye latching onto dark slacks. _Those might work_. He grabbed them from under the pile, straightening them out a little. “But I rather avoid being nominated for worst dressed attendee of the night.”

“ _Please_ ,” Wooyoung said. “You could wear nothing but a thong and still not be worst dressed attendee of the night.”

“I am not sure whether this is a backhanded compliment about my natural beauty or you roasting the entire celebrity community and their way of dressing.”

Wooyoung grinned. “Both?”

San pretended to think about for a second, before shrugging. “Fair enough.”

“Oh, come _on_ ,” Wooyoung said excitedly. He was splayed on his couch, phone in his hand. He looked unfairly pretty. “Some of those outfits are borderline insane.”

“You have to applaud them for their guts though,” San remarked, as he pulled a white dress shirt from underneath the pile of clothes.

“Do we really have to spur them on to wear something even more ridiculous the next time?”

“Who knows,” San said, disappearing from view for a few seconds as he switched his sweatpants for the slacks. “Maybe it’ll make them focus less on me, and I can just show up in sweats and call it a day.” He didn’t miss the approving whistle Wooyoung gave as he appeared again, pants on, but torso naked. _Payback_.

“You could do that today too,” Wooyoung pointed out. “What’s stopping you?”

“I am not showing up in sweats at a red-carpet event, Woo.”

“Pity, they make your ass look good.”

San looked up into the camera, a little flustered. “You -- I… _Woo_.”

“Yes, baby, scream my name,” Wooyoung sing-songed, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“You just wait,” San warned, without any bite, as he pulled on the shirt, buttoning it up, but leaving the top two open. “You’ll receive your payback once I’m back.”

Wooyoung’s smirk just grew wider. “Can’t wait.”

San dragged his hand through his hair, desperately trying to keep himself together. Wooyoung hadn’t been this much of a tease since his slightly drunk text, and that had all escalated far too quickly back then. San did not have the time for that now.

He grabbed his phone and moved to the bathroom, propping the phone on the sink as he started applying some light makeup and gel to smooth his hair back, leaving only a few stray pieces to fall over his forehead.

“Okay, now I _really_ can’t wait,” Wooyoung said shamelessly. Really, where was that boy that had been sitting all flushed and jittery in front of San upon their first meeting?

San threw him a look.

“I mean it,” Wooyoung continued, voice a little softer now. “You are so beautiful and hot, and I won’t be there to see you flaunting around like this. It’s unfair.”

“I’ll wear this for you sometime once I’m back, if you like it that much,” San promised, earning him a delighted squeal from Wooyoung.

He added some accessories, covering his ears in different piercings, a thin silver bracelet on his left wrist, and a couple of rings on his fingers. A knock on his door alerted San that it was time to go.

“I have to go,” he said, smiling a little sadly at Wooyoung. He wished Wooyoung was here, joining him during this event. It would be so much more fun.

Wooyoung pouted. “Okay. Let me know when you’re back safe at the hotel.”

“Will do,” San promised. “Say hi to the boys for me?”

Wooyoung promised he would and after saying their goodbyes, they hung up, San having to quickly get in his shoes and grabbing his coat, before he walked out of his hotel room. His manager and bodyguard were already waiting for him, albeit a little impatiently.

They left the hotel as quickly as they could, San waving at the handful of fans that screamed at him, unconsciously taking a step closer to his bodyguard. They stepped into a car that was already ready and waiting for them and drove them through the city.

It wasn’t long though before they arrived at the destination, sun already setting, and San felt the giddy flutters inside his stomach. Nerves, at the prospect of having to step out and getting in the spotlight again. There would be fans, there would be paparazzi, and his every move would be followed. Somehow, San had forgotten how much this had grown to be a part of his life too, as he had allowed himself to be pulled into Wooyoung’s small world, where no one cared about his fame and glory.

He stepped out of the car, smile already plastered on his face. Even if this event was smaller than the big, annual ones, the flashes were still blinding him, and the screams were still deafening him. He waved and smiled, giving out autographs wherever he could.

The night lasted for what felt like forever, awards were given, pictures were taken, but overall, San was simply happy it gave him little to no time to think about anything. He was hoisted into multiple group pictures at some point, and even initiated one himself, throwing finger hearts at the camera while the other celebrities either threw a peace sign or did a thumbs up.

He couldn’t help but send Wooyoung the image, taking a few precious minutes for himself before they would all head down to the building next to the current one for the afterparty.

Wooyoung responded exactly how San expected.

**Wooyoung**

!!!!

that are a lot of famous people

like

a lot

jeez

kinda jealous

also kinda turned on

**San**

Turned on by famous people?

**Wooyoung**

no

by you knowing all those people

and being chill with them

and looking like you belong

god you are so beautiful

**San**

You do know you would fit right in too, right?

Because you are more beautiful than anyone around here

And that is a fact

**Wooyoung**

fuck you and your smooth flirting

im all blushing now

i was trying to seduce u

you idiot

**San**

Oh believe me babe,

You already have

**Wooyoung**

;)

Someone tapped his shoulder, an old costar he had worked with years ago, asking him if he’d join them for the afterparty, and San quickly stashed his phone away. He would text Wooyoung again later, when there was time.

But as it turned out, there barely was any time. Now that the official part of the night was over, people were able to let loose and it showed. The music never stopped playing and the drinks flowed freely, allowing for an atmosphere that was hyped and buzzed.

San was pulled onto the dance floor, dancing along to ridiculous songs with people he both did and didn’t know, but that was always the fun part about these afterparties. No one cared, as long as you went along with the crowd, joining in the happy vibes that carried on long into the night. It was fun, really fun, and San enjoyed being able to dance, allowing the cheers from his fellow people to spur him on.

It was unexpected, but not unwelcome, when an old friend suddenly joined him on the dance floor, matching the steps with ease.

“Seonghwa!” San screamed, both in excitement and to be able to be heard over the music.

Seonghwa was grinning broadly, looking all fancy and expensive, in his designers’ clothes that hugged all around his body, accentuating his small waist and long legs. He had always been unfairly beautiful, with a face that seemed to have been carved out of stone and a smile that could win anyone over, his hair black and falling attractively over one eyebrow, pushed away from his face on the other side. But more importantly, they had been part of the same dance crew as teenagers, before both had gone their separate ways in their search of fame. San had heard that Seonghwa had made the move from Korea to America fairly recently, unlike San who had made that move early on. They had lost touch over the years in terms of speaking, but they had still always followed the work of the other. San had, at least.

A dance battle ensued, much to the delight of the crowd around them. San was only half aware of the phones being held up, no doubt filming the entire ordeal.

He couldn’t find it in him to care, too excited that he had unexpectedly run into an old friend. They fell into some old routines, Seonghwa even going as far as seductively grinding against San, a very amused look in his face, falling back on an old routine they had done years and years ago, when they had been young and innocent.

San managed through himself cringing and covering his face for all but five seconds, before he grabbed Seonghwa, who looked just as flustered and lowkey shocked as San felt, and pulled him into a hug.

Too long.

It had been _too_ long.

They had been close friends while growing up, learning to dance in their hometown, their love for performing forming an immediate bond upon meeting. It had been sad once their paths had been forced to separate, and the distance and time difference had made it even more difficult to keep in contact. San had thought about reaching out, but something had always come up, forcing the thought out of his mind, and it had become a typical out of mind, out of sight type of situation.

They parted, Seonghwa dragging San through the cheering crowd to the bar, to get them some drinks. Cocktails, San presumed, if the colorful drinks were anything to go by.

He took it happily enough though, thanking Seonghwa in earnest, and together they trudged away from the dance floor, to a place where the music was less loud in their ears. They managed to find seats, albeit with a bit difficulty, resorting to sharing a small couch together. It was fine, really, at least for San, and apparently also for Seonghwa, as the taller male didn’t voice any complaint.

They had been close as teenagers anyway and sharing a couch or bed had never been strange to either of them.

“I didn’t know you would be here,” San said, “but I am glad to see you. It’s been far too long.”

The years had been really kind to Seonghwa, who had matured beautifully into his features, San thought rather absentmindedly.

Seonghwa smiled, that broad smile that made his face light up. “It really has been, hasn’t it? I didn’t expect you to be here either, but now that I think about it, it makes more sense for you to be here than for me.”

“I don’t think so,” San countered. “You starred in that new spy movie, recently right? People are calling it your big breakthrough. And with good reason, in my humble opinion.”

“I guess so,” Seonghwa laughed a little shyly. “But still, I didn’t have the feeling I was famous enough yet to join this event, but here we are.”

“You moved to America recently, right?”

Seonghwa nodded, sipping from his pink drink. San was nursing a blue one that didn’t taste half that bad. “L.A., actually, so we might bump into each other from time to time.”

“Can’t say I mind,” San admitted. “It’s nice to have a familiar face around. Fame gets lonely very fast, I can tell you that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Seonghwa bit his lip thoughtfully, before he leaned in a little, placing a comforting hand on San’s knee, the same way he had always done when they were younger, and San had needed comfort. “I’m sorry to hear that. I wish I had done a better job at staying in contact with you.”

“No,” San disagreed, “we both could have done a better job. But now that you’re actually in the same country again, we could work on it again?”

“Please,” Seonghwa smiled.

The conversation flowed easily, as it had always done between them. Seonghwa was easy to talk to, a good listener, and the years had been kind to him, making the motherly traits in him even more prominent, his caring attitude evident.

They talked about all the things they could think of, about their families and long-lost friends, about their time together dancing and performing, about San’s first movie and everything that had come afterwards. It was a flow of constant conversation, the both of them eager to get back into each other’s life.

“Do you still dance regularly?” Seonghwa asked after a while.

“I didn’t for a long while, apart from using it as a workout,” San said, “but I recently met someone who is part of a dance crew. And… He invited me to join him on the nights where he is alone. I’m planning on joining him and his entire crew for a practice session once I’m back in L.A. though.”

Seonghwa’s eyes lit up. “Is this someone a _special_ someone?”

San blushed, he could feel it. The familiar heat creeped up his face, making him warm all over. “Yeah, he is.”

Seonghwa hugged him, spontaneous, but oh so welcoming, and softly spoke, “I am happy for you, Sannie.”

They had to part ways not long after that, despite the both of them eager to continue talking. There was too much to catch up on, but they exchanged numbers, promising to not be stranger’s this time and actually keep in touch.

As promised, San texted Wooyoung once he was back in his hotel, but no response back came. He wasn’t too bothered by it though, seeing how late it already was. Instead, he quickly sent another text saying how he couldn’t wait to be home again and meet up and wished Wooyoung sweet dreams.

He was asleep before he knew it, succumbing to dreams that had him smiling throughout the night, unaware of the raging storm that was going on throughout the night.

\--

San woke up to a different routine than he had over the past few weeks.

He hadn’t even been aware he had said routine, but now that it was broken, it became obvious to him how much he had grown to love the routine.

He hadn’t realized it, not last night as he had been tired to the bone, but he noticed it now. First of all, there was no response back from Wooyoung yet, something that made San frown once he noticed that Wooyoung had not only received San’s messages but had also _read_ them. Second, Wooyoung hadn’t said goodnight last night nor had he texted a good morning.

It wasn’t something he _had_ to do, but it was a routine that had been there for weeks now, a habit that had come from both sides, and San had been under the impression that it was their little thing.

But as it was, there were no messages from Wooyoung whatsoever and something uncomfortable stirred inside San’s stomach.

He reasoned with himself anyway, thinking that Wooyoung maybe had forgotten to hit the send button, or had fallen asleep with his phone in hand - that wouldn’t have been the first time. The feelings in his stomach lessened, but they didn’t go away as San typed out his usual message to wish Wooyoung a good morning, adding his flight information as well, and a little message that he couldn’t wait to be home so they could see each other again.

After that, he had to temporarily lay his phone aside, taking a quick shower to clean himself from the sweat and spilled drinks that were clinging to his skin from last night, and after that he’d have to grab his stuff and get ready to leave the hotel soon. His flight back home wasn’t as early as his flight to here, but it was still an early enough flight, and it was expected of him to be on time.

His hair was still damp while he packed his suitcases, stashing all the different outfits into them with a little care. There was no need to pack really neatly this time around, as all the clothes would be washed anyway, but he wanted to avoid any tears and breakage if he could, carefully placing all his accessories into a different bag.

He met up with his manager and bodyguard after that, his sunglasses already in place. It was so much more crowded this time as he left the hotel, and San didn’t understand why. But as it was, there was no time to dwell on it, a black van already waiting for them, and San allowed himself to be guided by the bodyguard, sliding into the backseat with ease, letting the rest work on getting all the suitcases inside the vehicle.

The screams of his fans filtered through the thick material of the car, but San tried to ignore it, tried to shut everything out. He didn’t want to hear it; not now, anyway.

There was still no response from Wooyoung, but there was a message from Seonghwa, wishing him a good flight and that he hoped they could meet up once they were both back in L.A. San quickly texted back that they could and that he would look forward to it, locking his phone after that and pocketing it.

The ride itself was relatively short, and San got dragged into a conversation by his manager about meetings that had taken place over the past few weeks, about deals that still weren’t made, and about conversations that would take place once they were back in L.A.

They continued that conversation as they arrived at the airport, where there were more fans, more screaming, more pictures that were being taken. San kept his sunglasses in place, keeping his facial features neutral. He still didn’t understand the sudden increase in fans that were waiting for him at places like these, but it had happened before, and as it was, San had to catch a flight. There was no time to really think about everything that was happening right now.

The airport was busy, people scurrying around them as they were in their own world. San ignored the heavy feeling in his stomach, keeping himself from checking his phone every other second. They checked in, leaving the screams and flashes behind.

Time seemed to move too fast and too slow, and before San knew it, he was up in the air again, his phone still having no new messages from Wooyoung, and he spent the entire flight thinking about the reason _why_. Wooyoung would have been awake by now for sure, not one to stay in too long even if he were to have day off.

His manager was blissfully quiet, seemingly sensing that San wasn’t in the right headspace at the moment, and San allowed his mind to wonder as his music played on shuffle, the familiar beats lulling him into a borderline sleep-like state.

He didn’t understand why there was still no response, nor why his stomach twisted and turned with every possible explanation his mind came up with. He didn’t understand why the messages had been left on read but had stayed unanswered. He didn’t understand why he wanted to scream nor why every stupid fiber in his being wanted to get off this plane and see Wooyoung, just so he could calm dan the nerves in his body.

He _didn’t understand_.

The plane landed after a little over two hours of flying, the landing bumpier than the takeoff, and San felt his stomach protest and the harsh movements. He wanted to grab his phone as soon as he could, but his manager prevented that from happening, dragging San into another business-related conversation, where San deemed it to be unpolite to zone out.

He allowed himself to be led by his manager, bodyguard already flanking him again, as they walked through the airport. There were more fans waiting, for some reason San couldn’t understand, and reporters clicked away on their cameras, the flashing blinding.

“Choi,” some of them screamed, San automatically looking up, seeking the origin of the sound.

His manager wasn’t having any of it. “Keep walking,” he grumbled, and San felt a slight push against his back, his bodyguard forcing him to keep walking.

“Choi, are the rumors true?”

_Rumors_?

San didn’t understand, and he felt so lost all of a sudden, so detached from everything that was happening around him. The fans were still screaming, trying to get his attention, the media and reporters yelling even louder, and San felt his ears ring with discomfort.

“What are they talking about?” he muttered towards his manager, but the older male only scowled, shaking his head in a displeased manner.

“Ignore them,” he instructed, and then raising his voice a little, “No comments!”

The reporters didn’t seem to care, invigorating their attempts to get San’s attention, but San kept on walking, the hand of the bodyguard pressing deeper, more urgent into the muscles in his back.

His manager gave no explanation whatsoever, and after the fifth attempt, San stopped asking. His phone was itching in the pocket of his jeans, but there was no time, no opportune moment to grab it. His manager was still talking, still going on and on about deals, and meetings, and obligations, and San felt ready to rip his hair out.

“San,” his manager said rather sternly, and San’s head snapped up. He had been zoning out, trying to ignore the constant ringing in his ears and the sick feeling in his stomach. He just wanted to be _home_.

“San,” his manager said again, softer this time. The car came to a stop. “Try to get some sleep, okay? Filming starts again tomorrow, and you know how important it is to make this movie into something good.”

San nodded, because he _knew_. It was all his manager had been going on about ever since San had accepted the role, about how important this was for San and for his image. He uttered a goodbye, promising he would stay in touch, and then all of a sudden, he was alone for the first time in two weeks, but even the sweet smell of home couldn’t bring him the comfort he needed.

His phone was in his hand in record time, _finally_ unlocking it and disabling the flight mode. His heart was throbbing loudly in his chest, the sound echoing in his ears.

There was the familiar buzz of incoming messages, and San opened them immediately, so glad to _finally_ hear from Wooyoung, to put every stupid thought behind him and-

Silence enveloped him as he read the messages, frozen on the spot by their content.

**Wooyoung**

I’m sorry, San.

I can’t do this.

I am not playing this game.

Please don’t contact me anymore.

There was a sound of something breaking, but San realized too late that the sound had never even been there, just a figment of his imagination, as his entire body went cold. He could feel it though, feel how his heart was the thing that broke, like fragile glass that shattered on stone tiles. That had been the sound his delusional mind had produced, his brain unable to cope with the words that were displayed on the screen of his phone.

_What was happening?_

He stayed like that for God knew how long, locked in the same position, his coat and boots still on, his suitcase long forgotten in the hall. The screen of his phone had long gone black, the messages no longer there, but he wasn’t aware of it, his brain too loud as it tried to understand what was happening. And that was exactly what was wrong with the entire situation.

Because _he didn’t understand_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides in a corner*
> 
> I mean, I did tag this fic with 'angst', and shit has to go down first before it can get better.
> 
> Next chapter will hopefully be uploaded on Sunday or Monday!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who took their time to read this, to leave kudos, and to leave a reply. Your comments are seriously part of why I just can't wait to upload the next chapter asap.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And little by little, San learned that loving someone sometimes meant letting go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grab them tissues folks, this chapter is all full of feels.
> 
> Also, a little sidenote: I know jack shit about contracts and what not, and even if it is talked about briefly, it is an important part of some explanations this chapter will touch upon. Let's just assume that in this universe, contracts work the way they work.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing but my imagination and mistakes.

The days dragged on in a blur of… _something_.

It had to be something, considering the sun still rose and set every day and night, but it might as well have been nothing. The hours morphed together, the nights dragging on and on, sleep coming and going as it seemed to please. And it didn’t like to come often, leaving San to twist and turn in his bed, alone with his thoughts and feelings.

There had been no more messages, no more selfies, no more _anything_ , and San still didn’t understand. Part of him wondered whether he ever would. No matter how often he allowed his brain to mule over the things that had happened, to contemplate the possible events that could have led Wooyoung to send those messages, there simply was nothing that seemed to be a good enough reason. They had been talking one minute, still goofing around like they had done so often in the weeks prior, before San had been whisked away to the afterparty.

Something, though San didn’t know _what_ , had happened during that afterparty. Something so vital and crucial, that it had caused Wooyoung to banish San from his life.

Wooyoung rarely left his mind, thoughts of _why_ and _what if_ ’s plaguing his tired mind, and San _still_ didn’t understand. It drove him mad, in ways that were foreign to him, a strange sense of anger bubbling underneath the surface, clawing its way through his veins.

He knew he should get his feelings under control, but he couldn’t. With any other person he might have, but Wooyoung wasn’t just any other person.

And that was exactly the problem.

San wasn’t stupid. Naïve sometimes, but not stupid. It had never been just fun and games with Wooyoung, the younger boy having left a lasting impression on San from their very first meeting. He knew why he was reacting the way he did and why he was feeling the things he felt.

He had fallen in love - and he had allowed himself to be under the impression that Wooyoung might have been falling in love too.

But apparently, Wooyoung didn’t feel the same, and San had to learn to live with that, to know his love was unrequited. It seemed like a nearly impossible task.

The days on set were terrible, all the scenes blurring together. He messed up a lot, forgetting his lines, forgetting the entire scene they were supposed to play. The producer yelled at him, but San barely noticed, going through the motions and script simply because he had to, not because he wanted to and certainly not because he was enjoying it.

It felt like there was nothing to enjoy anymore, random things reminding San too much of Wooyoung. They really had been talking so much throughout the days that San found himself with far too much time on his hands now, and he had to stop himself more than once to dial Wooyoung’s number.

He couldn’t stop himself from looking at all the pictures Wooyoung had send him, even if it ended with him crying in his pillow, his heart stabbing painfully at how beautiful Wooyoung looked in each and every one of them.

San missed him, missed their conversations, missed the fun and joy Wooyoung had brought into his life. He missed the way Wooyoung would cheer him up and he missed the way Wooyoung would be all soft and tired after a grueling practice.

It was funny, really, how fast San had actually fallen in love. He had been aware of it, but only a little. There had been the sexual attraction too, obviously, but it had always been more than that. Sometimes, you just _knew_ , and he realized that now, after he had lost the person he had fallen in love with, that somehow, he had always known.

San would always fall in love with Wooyoung, no matter what would have happened.

After the third day, San started to ignore calls from his manager, not finding it in himself to respond. He was so tired of all the talking, of the deals, of possible plans for the future. When the calls didn’t stop, he simply texted his manager to leave him alone and shut off his phone after that.

It was blissfully silent for a while, and San only dragged himself to set on the days he absolutely had to. He was still angry, still upset, and still utterly heartbroken, but at some point, he had decided to use it as fuel for his performance, because his costars didn’t deserve this. He was an actor, for God’s sake, he could _act_ his way through this movie.

So, he did, still ignoring his manager, to the point where his manager actually visited him on set. San send him away, telling him he would pick up the phone once he was ready to talk business again. Something had changed between them, San noticed in their brief meeting, and he wasn’t sure what. Ever since their flight back to L.A., his manager had been hell bend on focusing on business, always going on and on about how San needed to grasp every opportunity he could get. It’s what the fans wanted, apparently.

That was another thing that forced San into a total media silence. For some reason, fans had been a lot more vicious and extreme, and San found it nearly impossible to go anywhere without being attacked at some point. It wasn’t an actual attack in the physical sense, seeing how no one ever laid a finger on him, but the screams still made his ears ring in that uncomfortable way, and he wasn’t able to answer the questions they yelled at them, because he _still didn’t understand_.

Days blurred together, until days became a week, and a week turned into weeks.

Every day was the same, but shooting was coming to a close, and that was all San was focusing on. He still wasn’t on speaking terms with his manager, but he had turned his phone back on. There had been messages, of course, but none of them had been from Wooyoung, and San hadn’t cared about the rest.

It wasn’t until nearly six weeks had passed, before San was pulled out of his numb routine.

**Seonghwa**

Hey San

I haven’t been able to reach out before, because I was busy with my own projects

But I noticed you have been really silent

On all your social media’s, that is

And I just want to know if you’re okay

Are you worried about the rumors?

Not for the first time in the past few weeks, San didn’t understand. And he was tired, so _tired_ , of not understanding what was happening.

**San**

It’s okay

I haven’t reached out either

Y’know, being busy and all

He bit his lip, contemplating whether he should just fake being okay or not. They had only really spoken after years of silence during that afterparty, and it felt misplaced to whine about his issues.

But this was Seonghwa, his childhood best friend. Did he really want to lie to _Seonghwa_ of all people?

The answer was painstakingly clear. He didn’t want to lie to Seonghwa.

**San**

Honestly

I’m not okay

Things have been… rough

But I don’t understand

What rumors are you talking about?

**Seonghwa**

Oh wow

I knew you were silent

But to think you haven’t heard anything about the rumors?

Didn’t your manager tell you?

Wait, this is actually making no sense at all right now

San, have you looked at social media at any point in the past few weeks?

**San**

No

**Seonghwa**

Shit

I am coming back to the bit that makes no sense at all in a minute

But I first need to address what’s happening

So don’t freak out, okay?

**San**

Considering I have no idea what you’re talking about

I’d say you’re good

I won’t freak out

**Seonghwa**

Okay

So

There are rumors about us

They filmed us dancing together at that afterparty, where I made those ridiculous grinding moves on you as a joke

And there are pictures and videos of us touching and hugging

And someone uploaded it online, tagging the both of us

It got of control that same night

I debated putting out a statement, so my manager reached out to yours, and apparently you had been fine with it

So I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, because I don’t mind

I mean, I know they are rumors and I thought you did too

But now I see that there is a huge misunderstanding somewhere

**San**

I

Fuck

Are you telling me that the world thinks we are dating?

**Seonghwa**

They at least think we are romantically involved, yes

And so far, neither of us nor our team has said or done anything that would state otherwise, and people are just going with it by now

They think our silence means it’s true

You were really not aware of this?

**San**

No

I barely had any time that day to check my phone, because my manager kept on going about things he deemed important for my career and future

And once I came home I

Fuck

Fucking hell that utter bastard

**Seonghwa**

San?

**San**

I never thought my manager would do something like that

Did he say anything as to why I wouldn’t want to put out a statement?

**Seonghwa**

It had to do with you being fine with the cloud it brought you

Like, I get that, it certainly increased my popularity too, even if the method is a bit too unconventional for my taste

Does that matter?

San?

San????

That’s it, I’m calling you

And you better pick up

“San, what on earth is going on?” Seonghwa asked as soon as San had picked up the phone.

“My manager is a total asshole, that’s what’s going on,” San growled. His anger was bubbling up again, this time directed at someone else entirely. “This explains so much, Hwa, you have no idea.”

“Care to explain?”

“Like I said, I didn’t have any time that day to check my phone, not until I was finally home, because my manager kept on going about things he deemed important for me and my future. I think he wanted to keep me from checking my social media.”

“Why would he do that?” Seonghwa asked, sounding just as confused as San felt.

“Like you said, by doing nothing about the rumors, people pay attention to me more,” San sighed. “That would at least explain the sudden increase in crazy fans and media that follow me around like hawks.”

“Shit,” Seonghwa cursed and San choked on a laugh, even if it sounded bitter. He had never heard Seonghwa curse before, not in real life anyway. “That’s really fucked up.”

“I haven’t exactly been doing the things he wanted me to do, postponing or canceling meetings, not putting as much effort in things as I should have. So I am guessing, and I might be wrong here, that he wanted to get my popularity back on track. I am his main source of income, after all.”

“What a mess.”

San sighed. “Tell me about it.”

“But why were you so silent online, anyway?” Seonghwa asked. “It’s been six weeks, and it still gets attention every day, though not as much as it did the first week.”

“Remember that special someone I talked about?” San asked, and Seonghwa made a confirmative noise in return. “He texted me that he couldn’t do it anymore, that he wasn’t playing this game, and that I shouldn’t contact him anymore.”

There was a beat of silence before Seonghwa muttered a heartfelt, “Oh, San…”

“Fuck, Hwa,” San groaned, suddenly overcome with too much feelings. His mind was reeling, trying to piece all the puzzle pieces together into something coherent. “What if he saw the videos of us, of the rumors that were flying around? And considering we never put out any statement, it has no doubt been pulled out of proportion by now.”

There was silence on the other line, Seonghwa’s breathing the only sound that could be heard.

San wanted to scream. Who would have thought his manager would be enough of an ass to do something like this?

“Do you _want_ to put out a statement?” Seonghwa asked tentatively, breaking San out of his inner turmoil.

“Yes,” San answered immediately. “If I had been aware of this happening, I would have put out a joint statement as soon as possible. Just because it makes people pay more attention to me, doesn’t mean I _want_ that kind of attention.”

“Understandable,” Seonghwa hummed. “I don’t have a lot of time today, but how about we meet up tomorrow, so we can talk about the statement we will put out? I am assuming you will want to do this without talking it through with your manager first.”

San huffed a laugh. “You got that right. I will talk to him once we put out our statement. There is nothing he can change then, anymore.”

“I think that’s the smartest decision, yeah,” Seonghwa agreed. “I’ll text my address later and you can come over tomorrow whenever suits you.”

“Okay,” San said, ignoring the thumping in his ears. His heart was _loud_. “Oh, and Hwa?”

“Yes, San?”

San breathed in, unsure all of a sudden, even if there was nothing to be unsure of. “Thank you, for everything.”

Seonghwa laughed on the other end of the line, soft and gentle. “Anytime, San. Anytime.”

\--

It turned out Seonghwa lived relatively close, barely a twenty-minute walk away, and San took the opportunity to get some fresh air, after being cooped up on set all day. The weather was good, the sun still lingering a little, and not even the occasional picture that was being taken changed the mood he was in.

He was used to it by now and he managed to ignore it, sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose, clothes dark and not very exciting. The pictures wouldn’t result in anything interesting and that thought helped in calming the jittering nerves down as he found his way through the city.

After their call, San had opened his social media, ignoring all his notifications. Finding the videos wasn’t all that difficult, considering the clips were still circulating around, along with the wildest speculations one could think of. Some had already connected the dots, recognizing Seonghwa from the time San had danced with him, and apparently, they had recently rekindled their teenage romance, now that Seonghwa had finally moved to L.A.

It was so ridiculous; it had made San laugh.

But he could see why people thought they were together. If the dancing itself hadn’t been borderline erotic, their hushed whispers and San’s smitten face during their hug was enough to make anyone speculate. They just didn’t know San’s smitten face was because he had been talking about _Wooyoung_ , and not because he wasn’t in love with Seonghwa.

The entire situation had gotten out of hand, and people had gotten access to pictures of him and Seonghwa together, back from the time when they had still been in the same dance crew. They were close in most pictures, cheeks squished together, or arms slung around one another, always smiling pretty smiles.

It was easy, from an outsiders’ point of view, to think there was something more than just friendship. Even San had to admit that their story could have made for a cute love story, and he might have had fun entertaining it for a little, only for a second, if it wasn’t for the fact that this entire story had ripped Wooyoung from his life.

San was still mad. Mad at the world, mad at the press, mad at has manager, but most of all, he was mad with himself. He should have made his intentions clearer. He should have told Wooyoung what he wanted, asking for exclusiveness so there was no more room for doubt.

The fact remained, however, that he _hadn’t_.

He hadn’t asked, and all Wooyoung had promised was to wait for San. But waiting for someone was open for interpretation, in more senses than one, and Wooyoung hadn’t wanted to wait anymore.

Considering the shitstorm that was going on online, San couldn’t blame him. San only had to blame himself, really. He had done nothing to squash any doubts Wooyoung might have had. He hadn’t explained himself, though Wooyoung hadn’t given San the space and time for that.

Perhaps they were both to blame for the current situation. It hardly mattered at this point.

All San knew was that it wasn’t _fair_ , and he wanted to be given a chance to explain himself, to introduce Wooyoung to Seonghwa, so Wooyoung could see for himself that Seonghwa was nothing more than a really good friend - and that was all he would ever be.

He wasn’t even sure whether Wooyoung would see the statement they would put out today, considering Wooyoung had unfollowed him everywhere, as had Yeosang. But the rest of their crew were still following San, and it was the only hope he managed to hold on to. And if not them, then perhaps the rest of the world. The unexpected announcement would surely get some very much needed attention - and attention was really all this needed right now.

This message needed to find its way to Wooyoung one way or another and if it were to blow up, there would be no way around it. It might be a long shot, but frankly, it was the only shot San had.

Seonghwa’s house was relatively modest, but San liked the vibe it gave, pressing on the bell as soon as he stood in front of the door.

Seonghwa opened it soon enough, all smiles and dressed in stylish clothes. His hair was pushed back, the color a silvery blonde now. It looked good on him.

“Hi,” Seonghwa smiled, stepping back and gesturing San to come in. “You can take off your shoes and coat and leave them in the hall,” he continued, making even more gestures, before he scurried back into the spacious living room.

San untied his boots, placing them neatly besides the dozens of shoes that belonged to Seonghwa, hanging his slightly battered up coat to the expensive-looking ones Seonghwa owned.

He followed Seonghwa into the living room and allowed his eyes to roam around. The space really was nice, with an open floorplan and tall windows. There was a big and plush-looking couch shoved against one wall, with two big chairs on either side. The kitchen was clean-cut, as far as San could judge from where he stood. Most of the decorations and furniture were in different shades of white, contrasting against the dark wooden floor.

“You have a very lovely home,” San said honestly, making his way towards the kitchen and taking the cup Seonghwa silently handed him. He couldn’t suppress the smile as he smelled the content his cup held. “Really, Hwa?” he chuckled. “Hot chocolate?”

Seonghwa smiled something shy, his shoulders hunching a little in something that resembled a shrug. “I thought you might like the comfort it brings. You used to like it when we were younger.”

San brought the cup to his lips, inhaling deeply. The sweet smell prickled his senses. He hadn’t drunk this particular beverage in what felt like _years_ , having switched to the bitter taste of coffee once he had started with acting.

“I still like it,” he admitted, taking a generous sip. It was hot, nearly burning his tongue, but the familiar taste was worth it. “You still make it like you used to.”

“It’s the only way I know how,” Seonghwa shot back, sipping from his own mug as well.

They drank the remainder of their hot chocolates in silence, listening to the soft tunes the radio was playing. It reminded San of all those times they had just laid down in their rooms, rough carpets burning against their backs, and had listened to new songs. He frowned a little at the memories. He had forgotten how much he had enjoyed doing that.

This felt similar, if not far more comfortable, and it seemed Seonghwa was enjoying it all the same. The silence never felt uncomfortable and San handed Seonghwa his cup once he was done, smiling a little at the remnants of old memories that prickled his brain.

“How do you want to do this?” Seonghwa asked as he grabbed their cups and plashed them in the dishwasher.

San rested his chin on his hand. “I think doing an Insta live might be the best idea. We all know those stories can blow up within seconds.”

Seonghwa nodded. “That sounds fine by me. Any particular things we want to say?”

“Obviously that we aren’t dating,” San chuckled. “Perhaps explain a little why this went ignored for so long.”

“About that…” Seonghwa grabbed a stack of papers from the counter and slid them towards San, who could only look at them in confusion.

“What’s this?” he asked, scanning the first page. “Contracts?”

“Yes and no,” Seonghwa answered. “Before we get into _that_ , I want to ask you something first, if that’s okay.”

San arched his eyebrow. “Of course.”

“Once we go live and make our statement, and once you have spoken about the reason _why_ we haven’t said anything until now… What are your intentions afterwards? Your manager will hear about it sooner than later. What do you want to do about him?”

San didn’t answer immediately. He had thought about it, unsure of what he could actually _do_. Their partnership was as legal as it could get, contract upon contract binding them together in more ways than San understood. Honestly, he wasn’t sure what he _could_ do about his manager.

But that wasn’t what Seonghwa was asking him.

“I _want_ to get rid of him,” San answered slowly. “I don’t want a power-hungry man as my manager, even if he has helped me for years.”

Seonghwa smiled broadly, white teeth showing. “I was hoping you would say that.”

San clacked his tongue, fingers curling around his phone that lay in front of him. “I hate to disappoint you, though, but I don’t think there is a legal way I can back out of the contract I have. It is still binding for another two years.”

Seonghwa tapped the stack of papers that lay front of San. “That is where all this beautiful paperwork comes in, San. Because you _can_ get out of your contract.”

San looked up at Seonghwa in confusion. “I can?”

“I talked about it with my manager.” Seonghwa flipped some of the pages, until he found the one he was looking for. “It states here that when there is a breach of trust, contracts can be annulled. And I would say that this particular situation is a very obvious breach of trust.”

San huffed. “Most definitely.”

“If you bring him up in our statement, it will be your word against his if he would take this to court, or anything. If he were to do so, my manager - Eden - offered to step in and pay him a nice sum of money to get him off your back, but I doubt your manager will go that far. He’ll most likely take what he can get and leave the burning ship while he still can.”

“Your manager… Eden, you said? He would be willing to do that?” San asked a little shocked. This was certainly unexpected.

“Eden is managing more idols, actors, and models,” Seonghwa shrugged, as if that explained anything. It didn’t, but San remained silent, allowing Seonghwa to continue talking. “He is a very nice guy, doesn’t like it when managers use their stars as bait for more money. You’re free to do as you please, of course, but he has offered to be your manager if you would annul your contract with your current manager.”

“I…” San swallowed. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say, really,” he admitted a bit sheepishly.

Seonghwa smiled reassuringly, placing his hand over San’s. It was warm, comforting, almost like a mother’s embrace, and San suddenly realized how much he had missed his childhood best friend.

“That’s understandable,” Seonghwa said. “If you want, I can ask Eden to arrange a meeting with him, where you can go over the more legal parts of this entire situation?”

San didn’t have to think twice. “Yes, _yes --_ please.” He laughed then, unable to contain the bubbling that formed in his throat. “Shit, Hwa. You’re still saving my sorry ass after all these years.”

The fond smile on Seonghwa’s lips told San everything he needed to know. “I’ll always save your sorry ass, San. Just because we haven’t talked to each other much since you left Korea doesn’t mean you’re not my best friend anymore. You’re not getting rid of me _that_ easily.”

He wasn’t aware he had started to cry, but suddenly his cheeks were wet and there was a lump in his throat that made it difficult to swallow. “God, I have missed you _so_ much, you have no idea.”

Seonghwa bit his lip, obviously on the brink of tears too. _All these stupid feelings_. “I think I missed you just as much, Sannie. I really am sorry for never reaching out when I should have.”

San shook his head, laying his free hand atop their stacked hands, squeezing Seonghwa’s hand between his own. “I am sorry too. Thank you though, for still being there for me when I need my best friend the most.”

“Always,” Seonghwa promised.

\--

They took the time to come up with a proper outline for their joint statement. San didn’t want it to be too scripted, voicing his concerns to Seonghwa that it could come off as robotic, and Seonghwa had hummed in agreement. That didn’t stop them, however, from writing down the points they wanted to mention, so that either had something to fall back on in case they felt a little bit overwhelmed.

They would go live with this, after all, making it impossible to cut out mistakes. To say the entire ordeal was nerve-wracking was an understatement.

Seonghwa was fiddling with some lighting, the standard for San’s phone already in place. It looked rather professional, as per Seonghwa’s suggestion. It would come off more sincere if the video was as steady as possible, with a blank background and just the two of them in the frame. No knickknacks, no weird backdrops, no shaky camera that could betray their nerves. Just a steady video and the two of them talking. Seonghwa had taken it upon himself to provide that environment, grabbing equipment from a spare room. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it would do the trick.

San had freshened himself up a little but had turned down Seonghwa’s offer to put on some makeup. He wanted to do this in the most honest and natural way possible. Makeup would just hide things and frankly, San was done hiding.

Seonghwa had simply smiled once San had said so, nodding that fond smile again.

It was funny how easy it was to fall back into a comfortable friendship with Seonghwa, years of silence between them already forgotten. Apparently, there were things that didn’t simply go away and their friendship was one of those things. Even if some aspects had faded a little, there were still so many areas where they just clicked, working around and with each other in a way that had barely changed from when they had been eager teenagers.

“San, can I ask you one last thing?” Seonghwa asked suddenly from where he stood, near the two chairs he had put in front of the standard where the phone would be placed. He looked a bit unsure and San put his phone down on the countertop in alarmed concern.

“Ask away,” he answered, far steadier than he currently felt.

“That special someone you mentioned… Are you going to address him in our statement too?”

_Wooyoung_. A familiar pain stabbed in San’s heart and he frowned, both at the feeling and the question. “I… I think I’d like to, yes, if you don’t mind,” he admitted after a second or two. “Probably not directly, because I don’t want to breach his privacy, but I do want to let him know he was -- no, _is_ \-- still special to me.”

“What’s his name?”

San breathed in, reminding himself that this was just Seonghwa. He could be honest. “Wooyoung.”

“That’s a pretty name,” Seonghwa hummed, and San silently agreed. “If you could, would you do whatever it takes to prove to Wooyoung that _he_ is the one you want?”

“I’d give him the world if I could, Hwa.”

Seonghwa smiled, seemingly pleased with that answer. “Then _please_ , San, address him in our statement in any way you see fit. Don’t worry about me, okay? I have your back.”

“You’re going to make me cry again,” San muttered.

Seonghwa walked towards the kitchen island, towards where San was seated, and pulled San in a sudden embrace that had San yelping in surprise.

“It will all work out, okay?” Seonghwa said softly, and San allowed himself to lean against Seonghwa, to lean _on_ the strengths the elder was providing. “We will let the world know what is happening, and you will let Wooyoung know what he means to you.”

“Thank you,” San mumbled against Seonghwa’s neck. He smelled like _comfort_ , all gentle fragrances and soft skin.

Seonghwa let go, still smiling so softly, so _fondly_ , and San was again reminded of how much he had missed his best friend.

“Alright,” he breathed, pushing his feelings aside. “Time to put out a statement.”

Seonghwa nodded and guided San to the chairs, seating himself on San’s left once San had sat down. He plugged San’s phone into the stand, opening the Instagram app. “Ready?” he asked, looking at San from the corners of his peripheral vision.

San nodded. He was as ready as he would ever be.

Seonghwa started the live video, leaning back in his chair once the stream was up and running and seemed steady. The amount of people watching grew with every passing second, but they had agreed to wait for a little bit, to make sure their joint statement would reach as many people as possible.

Comments, dozens and dozens of comments, flashed across the screen with insane speed, and San found it impossible to focus on them, let alone read them. But it was easy to get the gist of their content, considering Seonghwa’s phone was suddenly constantly lighting up beside them, indicating new notifications.

It made sense, really, considering neither of them had said anything for nearly six weeks and now Seonghwa was here, joining San in a live stream. People would probably think they would use this opportunity to confirm their relationship.

San felt nervous, biting his lip in an anxious gesture. This seemed to send the comments into an even bigger flurry of words and sentences San wasn’t able to read. _God_ , he just wished this entire mess could be cleared up with this, so that he could finally talk to Wooyoung again.

It was Seonghwa that started talking, after a few minutes of silence, and San actually _saw_ the change in demeanor. Suddenly, Seonghwa was smiling broadly, becoming the charming man that enamored the people around him with ease. All motherly comfort was gone, at least on camera, but Seonghwa had placed one comforting hand on San’s knee, squeezing it a little, and San appreciated the gesture more than he was able to say.

“Hi, everyone,” Seonghwa greeted their audience. His voice resonated through the silent apartment. “I’m sure most of you are wondering why I’m joining San in one of his rare Insta live moments, but I assure you we have a very good reason for this.” He smiled a little broader for a moment, before he allowed his features to become more serious. “All we ask of you is to listen to what we have to say, in the hopes we can clear up the rumors that have been circulating around for the past couple of weeks.”

Seonghwa was good at this, San realized, at talking to bigger crowds and getting straight to the point without bullshitting around casualties.

“Before we dive into that, however,” Seonghwa continued, glancing at San for a second, before his eyes fleeted back to the phone in front of them. The amount of people watching was _insane_ , higher than San had ever seen. “We want to point out that this statement comes from _us_. This essentially means that our respective teams and managers are _not_ aware of what we are doing right now. I want you all to keep that in mind, as this bit of information will be important for something San will discuss a little later.”

There was a squeeze on San’s knee again and he dared to spare a glance at Seonghwa, who was looking back, small smile on his lips. He gave a nod, indicating he was fine with Seonghwa continuing for now, while he still gathered his own thoughts.

Seonghwa understood the hint easily, turning his attention back to the phone. “Furthermore, we both want to point out that we do not have a script for this. We have discussed the points we felt are necessary to touch upon in this statement, but we have not discussed the content of these points. Please bear with us at the moments where we need to gather our thoughts or need a second to think.” He looked away again, at San, and San knew it was his turn to speak now.

There was another squeeze in his knee, and San breathed _out_. He could do this. He was not alone in this.

He looked into the camera, burying the remainders of his nerves.

“First of all,” he started, pleased that his voice sounded a lot more stable than he felt, “I want to thank each and every single one of you for tuning in right now. Secondly, I want to thank Seonghwa for being here with me, for helping me in clearing up the rumors, as well as for providing the emotional support I didn’t know I needed.”

He looked at Seonghwa at that and couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him. Seonghwa managed to keep his own snickering from coming out, but the smirk on his lips told San enough.

“This sounds a lot like a love confession,” San breathed, shaking his head as he grinned at his own stupidity. As smooth as he could be, sometimes he just had to say words that could be interpreted differently.

“Except that it isn’t one,” Seonghwa chuckled. It seemed he was unable to keep it inside him anymore, but San found he didn’t mind. Knowing that Seonghwa was struggling as well to keep a straight face helped to calm San down.

He looked at Seonghwa, at the facial features he had once known so well once they had been younger. Seonghwa’s beauty had always been captivating, like something ethereal and otherworldly. Growing older had only accentuated those features, allowing Seonghwa to grow into the mesmerizing adult he was today.

But that was all there was to it. It was simply something that San acknowledged. The words didn’t hold any other meaning other than the meaning the word in itself had. There were no hidden feelings, no little sparks, no unspoken intentions.

Looking at Seonghwa confirmed this once more. There would never be more than friendship between them, simply because they weren’t meant to be. San had never felt attracted to Seonghwa, and as far as he was aware, Seonghwa had never been attracted to San.

Friends was all they had ever been - and all they would ever be.

He was still looking at Seonghwa, a smile no longer on his lips, and echoed the words Seonghwa had spoken, feeling how true they were, “Except that it isn’t one.”

Seonghwa was smiling again, with such warmth and honesty that San wondered how _anyone_ could have ever thought they were romantically involved.

“You know,” San continued, turning his attention back to his phone. _Fuck this_. He was going to tell the truth and he was going to do it in the only way he knew _how_. The notifications were blurring together, the amount of people watching still increasing, but he tuned it out. “A lot of you guys out there figured out that Seonghwa and I have known each other for years, and this is very much true. We grew up together and bonded over our shared love for dancing. It’s how we ended up in the same dance crew, doing showcases and performances before I eventually moved to Los Angeles. We were best friends through it all, but we lost touch once I made the move.”

“I stayed behind in Korea,” Seonghwa took over. “The time difference made it difficult to properly talk, not to mention San’s busy schedule. We simply… drifted apart. Recently, however, I moved to L.A. as well. Not because I was following San, as some of you seem to think, but because I had made the decision to become an actor as well. Meeting San at that afterparty was merely a very happy coincidence.”

San couldn’t help but sound a bit bitter as he spoke, “A very happy coincidence that got blown out of proportion.”

Seonghwa frowned as he sighed. “I want all of you to understand that San and I hadn’t seen or properly spoken to one another in person in _years_. He was dancing with some other people when I spotted him, and all I could think about was reconnecting to him in the language we both know so well.”

The room fell silent for a second as Seonghwa seemed to gather his thoughts, and this time San took it upon himself to give a comforting squeeze in Seonghwa’s shoulder. They hadn’t spoken about everything in detail, mainly because they had wanted this statement to be genuine and honest, and talking things over always changed things a little.

It was obvious that Seonghwa was struggling with this situation as much as San was, even if he had different reasons.

“So, I fell back into an old routine we had once done,” Seonghwa continued, the furrow between his brows lessening, the tension in his composure relaxing. “It was silly, something fun, and I have zero regrets about it.”

“As much as I cringed through that whole dance,” San chuckled lowly, “it _was_ fun.”

“Glad to know we were both cringing like idiots.”

San snorted at that. To think they had performed that routine multiple times in front of an audience was unthinkable now.

“We got some drinks after that,” San continued, and Seonghwa nodded. “Considering the place was crowded, we sat down on a relatively small couch. I know there are people out there that say we did it so we could sit closer to one another, but it was mainly because there was no other place to sit.”

“We talked, we hugged, we said goodbye. San had an early flight to catch, and I had other obligations to attend the next day. It really wasn’t as interesting as some of the rumors made it sound. We -- I…” Seonghwa fell silent again, his brows furrowing together as he gathered his thoughts. “The only feelings I feel towards San are _friendly_ feelings. He is almost like a brother to me. I want nothing but the best for him, but that’s really all there is. The only love I have ever felt towards San is a platonic type of love, and I highly doubt that will ever change.” Seonghwa grinned at San then. “Sorry, buddy, but I really don’t think of you that way.”

“Trust me,” San laughed. “The feeling is entirely mutual. You have always been my best friend, and I don’t ever want that to change.”

They shared a silent moment of grinning at one another, and San was glad that the first obstacle was out of the way.

It seemed Seonghwa was thinking the same, as he turned his attention back to the phone and talked again, “Which brings us to our next point. I am sure many of you are wondering now why neither of us has spoken about this sooner. The videos started circulating around that same night of the afterparty and in the weeks after that, we haven’t put out a statement. This is where things get a bit… _interesting_ , if I may say so.”

“You may.”

Seonghwa laughed. “Thank you for your blessing, Sannie. But, _anyway_. Remember what I said at the beginning of this statement, about how our managers and teams are not aware of what we’re doing right now? By this point in time, I am going to assume _someone_ notified them, because my phone has certainly been going off continuously for the past few minutes, and I am sure San’s phone would be in a similar state if he were to have his notifications on.”

“I feel judged here,” San pouted. “It’s not my fault I just want to focus on important notifications.”

“You just want to focus on notifications from a special _someone_ \--”

“ _Seonghwa_!”

“-- Which is totally fine and _not_ the point of the current conversation. My point is, however, that I _hope_ San’s manager is listening to this.” Seonghwa smiled sweetly at the camera and San had to muffle a laugh behind his hands. “You see, when my manager became aware of the rumors that had started circulating around about San and me being romantically involved, we reached out to San’s manager. And he blatantly told us that San didn’t mind it, as it would help in getting some free attention. Considering the rumors didn’t actually harm me in any way, I was fine with not doing anything for a while. They were _rumors_ after all, and it wasn’t like I was seeing San on a daily basis. Quite the contrary. We didn’t really speak again until, what, yesterday?”

San nodded. “Pretty much, yeah. He texted me, because I was awfully quiet. Not just towards him, but towards _everyone_. I’m sure you all have noticed how… _absent_ I have been online. I won’t get into details about the reason why, because that is between me and the person who is involved in this, but the entire situation made me a _mess_.”

“I texted San to ask he was okay,” Seonghwa continued explaining. “A part of me was afraid he had started to worry about the rumors.”

“Which is funny,” San mused, but even he was aware of the icy tone his voice had taken. He hoped his manager would _feel_ the glare San was sporting right now in his soul. “Because I hadn’t heard anything about the rumors until yesterday. I must say that finding out about the rumors has certainly cleared up a few things on my end, but simply knowing about it doesn’t change the fact that some things are still seriously messed up.” He stared straight into the camera, feeling the anger flaring up again. “My manager thought it would be a good idea to capitalize on this entire rumor, _without_ consulting me about it. He kept me busy, busy enough to keep me away from all the rumors that had been circling around and spiraling out of control. And, I _swear_ \--”

He choked a little on his breath. Seonghwa was squeezing his knee again, comforting, _worrying_.

“Take a breath, Sannie,” he muttered underneath his breath, rubbing comforting circles on San’s back with his other hand.

Part of him had been afraid of this happening, of him losing control over the situation, of losing control of his emotions. But Seonghwa’s comforting words made him realize that it was _okay_ to lose his emotions and control, as long as he kept it within respectful boundaries.

He breathed in and out, forcing the anger and nerves, and _everything_ that was racing through his mind and body to calm down - enough at least for him to continue the statement.

How long had this already been going on? He didn’t know and found he didn’t care as he took one last calming breath, before he put his chin up in the air, determination evident in his features as he looked into the camera again.

“You know,” he continued, chuckling a little in disbelief. “It would have been fine, really. This entire situation would have been fine, had I known about it and agreed to it. But the fact remains that I wasn’t aware of it and never agreed to it.” He turned his attention to Seonghwa then, because Seonghwa deserved this apology straight to his face and not backhanded via a screen. “I am sorry for that, even if it might not have been entirely my mistake. But I am sorry for dragging you into this, and for having someone I trusted drag us both down.”

“It’s okay,” Seonghwa assured, smiling a private smile that told San more than a thousand words.

“But… I am mostly sorry towards someone else entirely, someone I won’t name here, because I won’t take advantage of their privacy. But if you are listening, you know it is you I’m talking about right now.” He turned his attention fully on the camera now, readying himself to lay his heart and soul bare. “I am sorry for the pain I have caused you with my actions, even if I was not aware of them. But I should have done more, should have tried harder, should have made my intentions clearer.”

A frustrated groan escaped him, and he dragged a hand through his hair, eyes fleeting away from the phone for a few seconds as he tried to regain his posture.

“Give him the world, Sannie,” Seonghwa whispered softly.

It was all the encouragement San needed.

He looked back into the camera, at _Wooyoung_ , praying that the younger male was watching this or would watch this at some point. “I was scared, so scared to ask you for things you might not have been ready for,” he confessed. “But I _should_ have still said it. I should have put my own insecurities and worries aside and make sure we were on the same page before I left. I am sorry for making you think this was just a game, because it never was. You were never a game and you never, _ever_ , will be.” He breathed in, feeling himself choke up, but he needed to get it out, needed Wooyoung to know how he _really_ felt. “Because I’m in love with you.”

He was laughing before he was aware of it, smiling like a giddy schoolgirl as his feelings burst out, finally freed from the cage he had forced them in.

He was in love with Wooyoung, and he was no longer going to hide it.

“You see,” Seonghwa took over, smiling so fondly and proud that it tugged at San’s heart for entirely different reasons. He had said it before, and he thought it again, but _oh_ , how he had missed this man. “This is why the rumors couldn’t possibly be true. San and I aren’t romantically involved, because his heart already belongs to someone else entirely.”

The notifications were blowing up, and it was impossible to read a single one, the messages all morphing together into a blur of letters that meant nothing.

“It does,” San admitted, suddenly feeling a bit shy at admitting the truth. While most of the comments had been positive about San being involved with another man, he wasn’t sure what to expect from his fans now that he had openly admitted to being _in love_ with another man.

“So, here we are,” Seonghwa said with a certain finality in his voice, pulling San from his inner thoughts. “This entire statement has been going on for what feels like forever, but we hope you all understand and accept now that San and I are nothing more than old best friends that recently reunited.” He dragged a hand through his hair, allowing a short silence to fall for the words to settle in. They carried a certainty with them, a feeling that this matter was undisputable.

And it was, for the two of them, at least. They would have to wait and see whether the rest of the world thought the same.

“To recap,” Seonghwa went on after a second or two, “I want to state once more that San and I are _not_ in any kind of romantic involvement and never will be.”

San nodded in agreement. “Secondly, up until yesterday, I have been unaware of the rumors going around because of private matters I won’t disclose. I ask you all to respect my privacy and of those involved in this entire… ordeal. Don’t go looking for things that aren’t there. The person I mentioned will know it is him, and this is something between him and I.

“As for the rest of the matters concerning my _manager_ … That is something that will be resolved behind closed doors. But know that I am working on it and that I will let you all know the results as soon as the legal part of this is all over.”

“Thank you all for taking the time to listen to us,” Seonghwa chimed in, smiling broadly. “We hope to have cleared all the rumors now, and we again ask you to respect our privacy. After all, we are humans too. Until next time!”

San waved at the camera on his phone. “Thank you, and goodbye!”

Seonghwa leaned forward, ending the livestream in one swift motion. He grabbed San’s phone from the holder and handed it silently.

There was an insane amount of missed calls that hadn’t gone through because of the livestream, most of them from his manager. He clicked the notifications away. Now was not the time to call back or act upon the anger that was still simmering underneath the surface.

He looked at Seonghwa, who was stretching his back as he got up from the chair. “What now?”

Seonghwa smiled a lopsided smile. “Now we will contact Eden and talk business.”

“Thank you, Hwa, for everything,” San said sincerely. He couldn’t have done this without Seonghwa by his side.

“Anytime, Sannie, anytime.”

\--

As expected, their joint statement blew up, for multiple reasons.

People seemed to still be somewhat divided on whether Seonghwa and San were or weren’t involved in _some_ type of relationship other than a platonic friendship. Apparently, the way they had looked at one another and had silently encouraged the other with soft touches had some stubborn people convinced there must be more than they had told. Entire analysis videos were made and posted online, causing another shitstorm of comments, reviews, and attention.

San was over it though, because some of the theories were so ridiculously farfetched that it almost became a joke. Besides, for every negative or doubtful comment, there were at least a dozen positive and supportive ones. San was grateful for those comments, because he felt a lot more comfortable actually meeting up and hanging out with Seonghwa without making it into something secret and shady.

It wasn’t a conscious decision at all, but now that Seonghwa was back into San’s life, they both made a thorough effort to keep it that way. They spoke daily, though some days more than others, and often sought each other’s company after having a long day on set. It was comforting to hang out with someone that understood the way the movie industry worked, because sometimes one little groan was enough information the other needed to understand what was going on.

Now that filming was coming to a close, San felt the pressure to do well and to make the most of the remaining handful of days that were left. He was well aware of his lack of enthusiasm in the beginning and during the entire rumor debacle, but he wanted to make this movie into something he could be proud of, no matter how cheesy the storyline was. It made the days on set easier, and the knowledge that he still hadn’t heard anything from Wooyoung a little less agonizing.

Seonghwa understood, or at least did a very fine job in trying to, always there to catch San when he fell into the darkest pits of his thoughts, where doubts and regret and hurt held him hostage. Those nights weren’t San’s proudest moments, but Seonghwa promised him that it was okay and that things would get better at some point.

While Wooyoung remained as silent as ever, San’s manager had started talking, almost obnoxiously so. San had only met up with his manager once he had had multiple meetings with Eden, discussing how he could get out of his current contract, and whether Eden really wanted to become San’s manager.

Eden was a kind man, different in so many ways from San’s current manager, and San found himself excited at the prospect of having Eden as his manager. Some things would definitely change, but that was okay. For some things a change was long overdue.

When San did finally meet up with his soon-to-be ex-manager, it was with Eden flanking him. His old manager told a whole lot of excuses and reasons as to why he had done things the way he had, but San was over it. The moment Seonghwa had provided San with a way _out_ , he had never thought again of a way to stay _in_.

The entire ordeal went smoother than expected, and San signed a new contract with Eden in about two weeks after the statement had been broadcasted. To celebrate it, they (San, Seonghwa, and Eden) went to a small diner, talking about future possibilities and more business-related talks that didn’t feel like business at all.

Eden, as it turned out, was a very chill man, who wanted his idols and celebrities to do things because they enjoyed them, rather than because of the good money. It was a mindset San appreciated, and he understood why Seonghwa had been talking so positive about his manager.

Once the world found out about San changing managers, there was another flurry of people seeking things that simply weren’t there. San was quick to shut the rumors down, posting a picture of Seonghwa and him on his Instagram with a caption along the lines of, _‘Perks of having the same manager as your best friend is that your days are never boring! :)’_ , emphasizing the _best friend_ in both the caption as well as the tags.

There was still no word from Wooyoung, but Yeosang did like that particular picture, meaning Yeosang _was_ keeping track of San despite having unfollowed him everywhere, and San took that as a major win. It almost felt like he had Yeosang’s blessing, and that feeling left him high on giddy moods the remainder of the day.

Overall, things seemed to really change for the better, and San realized he was climbing out of the dark hole he had crawled in.

He still missed Wooyoung, he was still very much in love, but there was also a part of his brain that realized he had to move on. There was nothing more he could do or say without directly contacting Wooyoung, and that was something he refused to do. Wooyoung had asked San not to contact him again, all those weeks ago, and so he didn’t, respecting the last wish Wooyoung had spoken.

It didn’t mean it wasn’t hard, because it _was_. There were days where he felt like staying in bed, hiding under the comfort of his soft blankets, but he knew he couldn’t. There were obligations and meetings, and as much as he disliked it, life _did_ go on.

But it was difficult when the world didn’t allow him to forget. While there were people still convinced that San and Seonghwa were together, more people were interested in the mystery man San had talked about and had confessed his love to. It was news that kept the world busy, and some people really did invade San’s privacy, getting all obnoxious about it in the hopes of getting the answers they would never get.

Those days were the toughest, but San found his comfort and refuge in Seonghwa and in other people that Eden managed. They were like a small family, where no one pried for information, but gave San a shoulder to lean on anyway.

And little by little, San learned that loving someone sometimes meant _letting go_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said in the previous chapter: Things have to get worse before they can get better. We're slowly reaching the end of this story, and while I'm curious to see what you'll all think of the remaining two chapters, I'm also a bit sad to know that this journey will soon be over.
> 
> With that being said, I really want to thank all of you for commenting on the last chapter! Having you all scream in my inbox is seriously one of the best things about being a writer, because I love your comments and I love knowing what you guys thought of chapters like that.
> 
> Also, we passed 100 kudos yesterday and are nearing 1000 hits! For that alone, thank you all, from the bottom of my heart. Numbers like that always feel a bit surreal, but I am not any less thankful for each and every single one of them.
> 
> Next chapter should be out on Wednesday. Until then!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wooyoung looked so beautiful, despite his tear-stained eyes and broken expression. He still looked almost unreal and San found himself wanting to reach out, to touch, to explore, to _give_. There was so much he wanted to _give_ , but it was up to Wooyoung whether he wanted to _receive_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's hope this chapter ends all of your suffering.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own imagination and mistakes.
> 
> Also, holy smokes, over 1200 hits and 125 kudos? Y'all are the best, seriously!

A month had passed since San had signed his new contract with Eden and today would be the first day where he would have a meet-and-greet with Eden as his manager behind him.

Eden liked to organize these events from time to time for _all_ the people he had taken under his wing. It was a way of connecting with fans, of giving back, of doing a little bit of fanservice. No one was forced to do so, but most, if not all, of the people he managed did it anyway. From what Seonghwa had told San, these meetings were similar to the ones San had done when he had still been under contract with his ex-manager, but a lot more laidback and relaxed. Fans were allowed to stick around after their meeting, and there was a lot more interaction in general between both the celebrities and the fans.

Truth to be told, San was looking forward to it in a way he hadn’t been looking forward to doing a meet-and-greet in a while. He was still nervous, perhaps a little bit scared, because it would be the first time meeting with his fans again after the entire rumor ordeal, and he wasn’t sure whether people still wanted to meet him.

But he held onto the sliver of excitement he felt as they promoted the event on their social media, getting the fans hyped up and explaining how people could get in. Another fun thing was that all the money people spend on tickets went to different good causes. San really enjoyed that idea and made sure his fans were aware of the cause he had picked.

Filming had wrapped up as well by now, leaving San with a lot more time on his hands than before. He had apologized to the director for his behavior, explaining a little about the situation, and the man had been nothing but kind and supportive afterwards. It had made the last couple of weeks extremely enjoyable and it had reminded San of why he had made the decision to quit dancing and go into acting.

It still felt a bit nerve-wrecking and surreal though, as San walked into the building where the meet-and-greet would be held in a few hours, Seonghwa by his side. They were dressed casually, their faces make-up free, and they followed Eden towards the backstage area. They were all given their individual rooms to prepare themselves in, but Seonghwa stuck to San like glue, much to San’s amusement.

Their backstage rooms were simple, with a comfortable couch against one wall and tall mirrors on another. A small table was placed in a corner, a chair in front of it, where some makeup and hair products were already placed down. A clothing reck stood beside it, San’s outfit for the day already hanging neatly on a hanger.

Seonghwa had to get to his own room at some point to get his hair and makeup done, and San opted to listen to some music as his stylist worked in silence. His hair was styled back, revealing his forehead, with some stray pieces falling back, and his makeup was kept relatively simple. Just some accentuating here and there to bring out his cat-like eyes and strong features more.

His clothes were relatively simple too, a pair of tight leather jeans and a black shirt that fell a bit loose around the shoulder area, with a low neckline, that accentuated his narrow waist, and a pair of combat boots finishing the look. It was simple, but effective, and San liked the simplicity of it.

“Damn,” Seonghwa said as soon as he saw San, whistling a little under his breath. “You sure do look handsome.”

San chuckled. “I could say the same about you,” he shot back. Seonghwa was dressed in a similar style, giving off some major sophisticated vibes. He looked pretty and like an actual model, and San told him so.

“Thanks,” Seonghwa smiled. “Are you excited?”

“Yeah,” San answered honestly. His fingers were absentmindedly fiddling with the thin silver bracelet on his wrist. “But also nervous.”

“I think we all are,” Seonghwa chuckled. He sat down on the couch, eyeing San through the tall mirrors. Someone had hung pretty lights around them, illuminating their reflections in a beautiful shade of soft yellow.

“At least we’re in this together,” San mused.

Seonghwa hummed something unintelligible, before he stood again. “Everything will work out in the end,” he said all of a sudden, “trust me.”

“Since when are you this cryptic?”

Seonghwa smiled something, as if he knew something San didn’t. “Just trust me, okay?”

“I trust you with my life, Hwa, what more do you want?”

Instead of responding, Seonghwa merely shot another blinding smile. “Come on, we have to go to the main room.”

“You are a strange man sometimes,” San muttered, shaking his head, but following Seonghwa anyway.

“You’ll thank me for it later,” Seonghwa quipped. The feeling that San was missing something important was growing.

But there was no time to dwell on it, as Eden was giving some last instructions and told them to enjoy themselves, before he opened the door to the grand room and the screams were _deafening_.

San had seen crowds before. He had seen the insane amount of people clumping together until they became one - but this was on another level. It made sense, considering this meet-and-greet was _huge_ , with a wide variety of celebrities, idols, and artists, but it still made him waver for a second, before he was able to smile and wave.

Seonghwa was constantly next to him, grounding him, and when San dared to look away from the crowd (certain that he wasn’t dreaming) so he could look at Seonghwa instead, it made him realize how much Seonghwa was made for this. There was a beautiful smile on his face, broad enough that teeth were showing, as he waved gracefully. San wondered whether people perceived him in a similar way or whether Seonghwa was just that charismatic.

If he’d have to vote, he’d definitely vote for the latter option.

They were guided to their respective tables and San shot Eden a thankful smile once he realized Seonghwa would be on his right the entire time. There had been no reason for Eden to do so, but San really appreciated the thought and action nonetheless.

The chair was comfortable, all soft cushions and gentle curves that aided his back. Multiple pens and papers were already placed on the table, ready to be used whenever it was needed.

Seonghwa was chatting to the person seated to his right, engrossed in a discussion San didn’t follow. Instead, he took the opportunity to look around.

The room itself was grand and beautiful, with tall pillars supporting the structure. The building was old, at least a hundred years old if not more, and it showed in the delicate cracks in the walls, in the way the pillars stood just a little bit crooked under the weight of the roof. But it added to the charm of the room, making it pretty in a way only age could do.

The lighting was soft and gentle, being just enough to illuminate the room without making the people in it go blind.

And then there was the crowd…

It was insane, and most definitely surreal, to see so many people waiting. Only a small portion of the huge crowd would be here to see San, but that did nothing for the nerves that floated inside San’s stomach. There were so many people, all excited chatter and joyous screams, and he suddenly realized how much he had missed this. Interacting with his fans had always been something fun, an opportunity most celebrities didn’t take, and San had prided himself in pursuing that opportunity as much as he could. There was something worthwhile in connecting with those that supported him, in giving back a little, even if he knew it wasn’t much.

He couldn’t help the smile that formed, suddenly eager to start.

Eden stepped in front of the tables, a microphone in his hand, clearing his throat a little in order to get the crowd to quiet down. It took a couple of minutes, but eventually the screams were reduced to excited whispers, soft enough that one could barely hear them at all.

“Welcome!” Eden greeted the crowd, earning an approving cheer. “I want to thank you all for being here today, as it meant you have participated in our event and have thus helped in donating money to a good cause.” There were more cheers and Eden made a movement with his hand, silently telling the crowd to calm down again. “Now, I know you are all _very_ excited,” he continued, “but I do want to make a few things clear before we start. Nothing major, just the general guidelines we always have. Is that okay with you?”

The crowd made a roaring sound, much to Eden’s amusement and his chuckling resonated through the room, amplified by the microphone in his hand.

“Splendid!” he laughed. “First of all, I want to point out that there is a general timeframe in which each meeting will be held. We have staff behind our idols to monitor that, and they will let you know when the time is nearly up. Secondly, all of your questions have been checked beforehand and I strongly advise you to stick to those questions. Asking any non-approved question is at your own risk, and any question or remark that we deem unworthy, unfit, our downright degrading will result in your immediate removal. Don’t say you haven’t been warned.

“Thirdly, there will be a break halfway through, so that we can all get a bit of rest. Considering this day is going to be a long one, and each and every one of these guys want to give their all to each and every one of you, we have scheduled a break of around half an hour to an hour halfway through the meeting. You can take a break at that moment too, if you want. Your spot in line will stay the same, as we will work with a numbering system.”

The crowd cheered again, voicing their approval.

“Well then,” Eden continued. “If you are all ready, I’d say we can begin!”

San clapped along with the rest, smiling so broadly his cheeks started to hurt. He could see Seonghwa doing the same from the corners of his eyes.

Before he was well aware, the first girl had sat down in front of him, smiling all pretty and soft, and telling of how big a fan she was of him. It was adorable, and San was more than happy to sign the picture she had brought, responding in all the right ways to her questions and remarks.

It was almost funny how easy this was, to fall back into the mindset he had had when he had just started doing this. It helped that most of the people were extremely excited to meet him, making the entire situation overwhelmingly positive.

Hardly anyone brought up the rumor incident, though some did voice their thoughts on it, saying they were happy that San and Seonghwa had found one another again. It was nice to hear, soothing the anxious part in San’s mind that had been laying dormant. He thanked those people with as much sincerity as he could muster.

His hand was cramping up badly near the end of the first session, but he bit through it, listening attentively to the stories people told him. Some people told him about their day, little bits and pieces that were hardly anything interesting, but to San it sounded like a privilege to be able to hear these things. Others talked about how they had become a fan, and he listened to those stories too, appreciating them all the same, no matter when they had become a fan.

Time flew, in that particular way time always flies when one is enjoying themselves. His jaw was aching a little from all the smiling, and San wasn’t sure how many hands he had held in the past hour and a half, but it hardly mattered - not when people were this excited and this positive to meet him.

Occasionally, whenever Seonghwa had to wait for the next person to walk to his table and sit down, they would interact a little. Most people seemed to really like that, some of them even gushing how adorable their friendship was.

It made it all worth it, and San was incredibly glad that Seonghwa had voiced this option, allowing San to be taken into this strange little family where he belonged in a way he hadn’t in a very long time.

The line was thinning a little near the two-hour mark and despite everything, San was happy to give his hands and face a little rest. He bid the girl in front of him goodbye, waving until she stepped down the little stairs off the podium, watching her take place in the crowd that lingered, staying behind to watch the remainder of the meet-and-greet.

The girl was the last meetup before his break, and honestly, he was in need of one.

“As much as I am enjoying this,” he said in a loud whisper to Seonghwa, “I am really not mad we’re getting a break.”

Seonghwa shot him an amused look. “I do hope you’re up for meeting one more person before your break, though.”

_What?_

San arched a confused eyebrow. “I think you might need that break more than I do, Hwa,” he half-heartedly joked. “You’re talking bullshit.”

Seonghwa, however, looked past San for a second, before he focused his attention back on San. He was grinning, his eyes glistening with mischief. “Have fun,” was all he said, before standing up.

San wanted to ask what Seonghwa meant, his body ready to stand as well, but then the chair in front of his table moved, and his head snapped back and -

_Wooyoung_.

San actually felt the world stop moving for a second, though it may have been _days_ for all he knew.

Wooyoung was sitting in the chair in front of him, looking as beautiful as he had always done. San noticed that the little mole under his left eye was clearly visible, no makeup hiding the little beauty spot this time. His mind was too fried to think too long about that little bit of information.

He couldn’t speak, couldn’t say anything, and he was barely aware of the fact that all the other idols, celebrities, and artists had all stood up by now, taking their much-deserved break. The crowd was still loud, so _loud_ , but San couldn’t hear it, was only aware of the thumping in his ears and the beating of his heart.

It was Wooyoung who broke the silence, muttering a soft, “Hi.”

San _still_ couldn’t speak, his brain not quite ready to catch up with what was happening, but his body moved on its own, his hands shooting forward and grasping Wooyoung’s. His grip was hard, harder than he intended it to be, but Wooyoung was gripping just as tight, as if he was just as afraid of letting go.

“I fucked up,” Wooyoung said, grip growing even tighter. “San, I _fucked up_.” There were tears clinging to his lashes, his brows furrowed together in an expression San wished he would have never had to see.

He licked his lips, forcing himself to speak. “Woo--”

“No, San,” Wooyoung interrupted him, nearly begged him. There was something akin to desperation in his voice and all San could think was how he wanted that tone to _go away_. “I need to explain myself. Please, can I explain myself?”

He sounded so _broken_ , and San felt it inside his very soul.

“Sannie?”

He licked his lips again, taking a deep breath afterwards. “Go ahead,” was all he said. He didn’t trust himself to say more at this moment.

Wooyoung was still holding on, almost bruising, but perhaps that was because San was holding on just as tight, his nails digging into the delicate skin on Wooyoung’s hands.

“I misunderstood the situation,” Wooyoung started, and there was so much _guilt_ in his voice that it made San sick to his stomach. He hated this, hated seeing Wooyoung like this. But he willed the feelings down, forcing himself to listen to whatever Wooyoung had to offer.

“I wasn’t sure of what we were,” Wooyoung continued, gaze flitting to the side a little, and San recognized it as embarrassment. “You had asked me to wait for you, but that was all we were. Just a promise to _wait_. And you -- I… I wanted more than that. _Fuck,_ San, I… I was so unsure of myself, of you, of _us_ and I--” He choked on a sob, averting his gaze.

“Look at me,” San pleaded, not daring to reach out, too afraid Wooyoung would reject him. “ _Please_ look at me.”

Wooyoung complied, looking at San with tear-stained eyes. “I allowed those… _rumors_ to get to my head. I thought you… I thought that you -- that _I_ was just a game. That it meant nothing. Just imagining that was too much to bear, and I… I couldn’t handle it. I _couldn’t handle it_. The pain was too much, and I was in _too deep_.”

San leaned forward, keeping their hands tightly together. He wasn’t aware of everything happening around him, his attention solely on the beautiful boy in front of him, his heart aching with too many emotions.

“I thought… I thought that if I would shut things down before it got worse, it would hurt less. But I was wrong… I was so _wrong_.”

San smoothed his thumb over the back of Wooyoung’s hand, trying to provide any form of comfort, ignoring the urge to pull Wooyoung closer, to close the distance that was still between them. His heart ached, ached with a love that he had tried to shut down, but was now bleeding all over again. He wanted, _oh_ , how he just _wanted_.

“I didn’t realize that immediately,” Wooyoung continued, his voice soft and almost ashamed. “I thought the silence from both you and Seonghwa meant that I had been right, that I was just a game to you. I didn’t realize how wrong I had been until you went live with that video.”

“You saw that?” San couldn’t help but ask. He had hoped, of course, but there had been no way to be sure. 

“Not immediately,” Wooyoung admitted, smiling apologetically. “Yeosang saw it first and forced me to watch it. Said he would have _my_ balls if I didn’t watch it.”

“Sounds familiar,” San muttered, squashing the urge to laugh.

“Did you mean it?” Wooyoung asked, his tear-stained eyes looking up with something hopeful.

“Did I mean what?”

Wooyoung looked so beautiful, despite his tear-stained eyes and broken expression. He still looked almost unreal and San found himself wanting to reach out, to touch, to explore, to _give_. There was so much he wanted to _give_ , but it was up to Wooyoung whether he wanted to _receive_.

Wooyoung’s voice was soft, delicate, but the words were loud and clear as he spoke. “Are you in love with me?”

Their eyes were locked, and San couldn’t look away, wouldn’t be able to even if held at gunpoint. It was just the two of them, the remainder of the world just something that happened around them.

“Yes,” San answered honestly, because as much as he had tried to move on, he was still in love with Wooyoung - probably even more than he had been yesterday and probably less than he would be tomorrow.

Wooyoung breathed out, his bottom lip trembling slightly. He was still looking at San with that particular expression, all broken emotions and things San couldn’t name, and suddenly he was scared.

What if Wooyoung didn’t feel the same? What if Wooyoung had decided to move on, their paths never crossing again after this?

The thought alone hurt in ways nothing had ever hurt San.

“You’re in love with me?” Wooyoung asked again, his voice barely more than a broken whisper.

San felt tears starting to sting in his own eyes, his emotions going through an insane rollercoaster that went a hundred miles per hour.

“Almost desperately so,” he managed to say without breaking down. He didn’t want to cry, not here, not now.

Wooyoung loosened his grip on San’s hands, moving his fingers a little and San, reluctantly, loosened his own grip as well, allowing Wooyoung to move back, to move _away_ , even if meant allowing his heart to fall to shambles.

He still couldn’t look away though, even if the act of letting go of Wooyoung made him feel sick.

But it wasn’t his choice; it wasn’t his decision.

He readied himself for the goodbye that would come, for Wooyoung to tell San that he didn’t feel the same.

His brain registered Wooyoung’s movement too late, already too prepared for _other_ movements that never came.

Instead, Wooyoung moved forward with a crashing urgency, grabbing San’s face between both hands and locking their lips in a bruising kiss.

It took San’s brain and body a hot second to catch up, to understand what the _fuck_ was happening, before he was finally able to respond, his hands grabbing the collar of Wooyoung’s shirt and pulling him closer, the table between them be damned.

There was an urgency in the kiss, a desperation that hadn’t been there in their previous kisses. Wooyoung kissed like San felt, scared that the other would leave, remnants of the hurt that had plagued them both tainting it. But there was also a certain hope blooming, the sudden hope that maybe, just maybe, this _could_ work out.

The table between them was seriously getting in San’s way and he couldn’t help the frustrated growl that escaped him as he tried to get closer to Wooyoung, which made Wooyoung laugh a shaky breath against his lips.

He wanted to dive back in, to breathe in those beautiful sounds and kiss them away, to find out what other sounds Wooyoung could make, but someone clearing his throat rather loudly prevented San from doing so.

Fuck.

He was _still_ at the meet-and-greet, in a room full of people, and his new manager on the side. He felt his cheeks heat up with embarrassment. The screams and gasps were deafening now that San was involuntarily pulled back to the here and now.

Eden snorted, _loudly_ , forcing San to look away from Wooyoung. “ _Please_ take him to your backstage room to figure this out and don’t come back until you have. I will keep your fans busy, okay?”

“Thank you,” San breathed, getting up from his chair at the same time. He reached out and Wooyoung entwined their fingers, allowing San to pull him close. He shot Eden a thankful smile, as much as he could muster, before he started to walk towards the backstage area, dragging Wooyoung along with him.

It was blissfully empty in the hallways, most of the other people in their own respective rooms, and San wasted no time in getting to his room. He dragged Wooyoung inside, immediately trapping Wooyoung between the door and his own body to capture Wooyoung in another bruising kiss.

It was all they did for a while, kissing like their lives depended on it, all tongue and teeth and Wooyoung matched San in his pace, in the almost brutal force. He clawed at San’s shirt, his nails scraping over the exposed skin, and San matched the movements in kind, his hands all over Wooyoung, unable to stop, unable to pull away.

“ _Fuck_ ,” San growled as he had to move away to catch his breath. He let his forehead rest against Wooyoung’s, not wanting to part more than he had to. “I am so in love with you, Woo, you have _no_ idea.”

Wooyoung placed his hands on either side of San’s face, the movement far too delicate for the way they had just been kissing, but San leaned into it anyway.

“I think I do, though,” he said softly, and San could feel Wooyoung’s breath on his lips. “Because I am ridiculously in love with you too.”

San blinked once, blinked twice, needing the time to let the words settle in. “You are?”

“I think I started to fall a little when you actually showed up at that showcase,” Wooyoung answered, far more elaborate than San had expected. “But I properly fell in love with you when we first danced together. That was the moment I knew I wanted you to be mine.”

“Woo--”

“Be mine, San,” Wooyoung whispered, his voice dark and seductive, a hunger present, and San felt his knees buckle a little.

Wooyoung’s eyes held nothing but honesty, the dark irises containing nothing but love and want.

San leaned in; their lips close enough to touch. “I have been yours ever since we met, baby,” he whispered back and it was Wooyoung who closed the distance again, his hands finding their home in San’s hair, pulling and pushing as he crashed their lips together again with force.

There was a fire in the way Wooyoung kissed, something that had San addicted, just like the first time they had kissed.

He bit on Wooyoung’s bottom lip, earning a moaned whimper from the younger and San was already drunk on it, reveling in the sounds that Wooyoung made. It made him greedy and he wanted to hear _more_.

“I’ve missed you,” he told Wooyoung truthfully in-between kisses, his fingers finding their way under Wooyoung’s shirt, exploring the skin he had seen on video, but had not yet touched in real life.

“I- _fuck_ ,” Wooyoung groaned, arching into the touch as San pressed into the soft curve of Wooyoung’s hips, his thumbs slipping underneath the waistband of Wooyoung’s pants. “I missed you too,” he managed to mutter, his breathing already uneven.

San moved his lips across Wooyoung’s jaw, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses on the sensitive skin, biting and sucking hard enough to make Wooyoung whimper underneath him, but soft enough to not leave any marks.

Wooyoung arched his neck and San took the silent invitation to trail kisses down there. He bit down again, sucking on the skin between his teeth, but let go before the skin could bruise, kissing the tender skin in silent apologies.

“Sannie,” Wooyoung whined and it remined San of that particular videocall they had shared, where Wooyoung had looked so beautiful and wrecked, San’s name rolling off his lips in the most exquisite ways. It had wrecked San then, but hearing it in person only wrecked him more.

He growled against Wooyoungs neck, his fingers digging deeper, digging _harder_ , into the sensitive flesh of Wooyoung’s hipbones, right where the beautiful curve of his thighs were.

“ _Sannie_ ,” Wooyoung whined again, one hand clinging desperately to San’s shirt, creasing the material, the other weaved tight in San’s hair.

San snapped his head up, taking the liberty to press their bodies closer together. “Yes, baby?” he asked, nudging their noses together in an affectionate display that seemed far too intimate for the current situation.

Wooyoung’s pupils were blown, his lips swollen and slick with spit, and San felt the entire sight go straight down to his dick, which was already hard and straining in his pants. _God_ , the effect Wooyoung had on him was ridiculous.

“Mark me,” Wooyoung said, stealing another kiss. “Let the world know I’m yours.”

“Shit, Woo,” San cursed. Wooyoung would be the death of him, one way or another. _What a way to die_ , he thought briefly, but the thought was fleeting and easily forgotten.

San moved his lips to Wooyoung’s neck again, biting and sucking with renewed vigor and enthusiasm.

Wooyoung was so _loud_ , his whimpers and needy noises filling the room, soothing the addicted part in San’s brain. He leaned back after a while, admiring the purpling bruises that started to show, evidence that Wooyoung was here, that Wooyoung was _his_.

“You are so beautiful,” San muttered, kissing softly on the dark marks before he kissed Wooyoung again.

“Yeah?” Wooyoung breathed.

“Yeah,” San echoed, allowing himself to appreciate the flush on Wooyoung’s cheeks at the praise.

But there were other, more pressing matters at the front of his mind right now. One of them being that they were still in far too many clothes.

He moved to grab Wooyoung’s shirt, a realization hitting him far too belatedly. His head snapped up, confused, a feeling overcoming him. “This is the shirt I loaned you that night.”

Wooyoung smirked and San felt his gut tighten, something hot and lava-like flowing through his veins at the sight. “I’ve been wearing it a lot, because it reminds me of you.” He pouted. “It doesn’t smell like you any more though.”

San gripped the soft material, taking it off of Wooyoung’s fit frame in one swift motion. “I’ll make sure it smells like me again,” he promised and Wooyoung hummed in approval.

It wasn’t his first time seeing Wooyoung’s naked torso, but the camera of his phone hadn’t done Wooyoung any justice, and San immediately latched his mouth onto the clean skin, leaving marks in his wake.

He sunk to his knees slowly, trailing kisses over Wooyoung’s chest, down to his stomach, stopping only when he reached the waistband of Wooyoung’s pants, San’s chin lining up with the belt. The material was cool against his skin, but San wanted it _gone_.

“Can I?” he asked, looking up from underneath his eyelashes, his fingers trailing down a little and digging into the curve of Wooyoung’s ass.

Wooyoung tangled his fingers into San’s hair again, tugging a little and forcing San to look up. His eyes were dark, filled with lust only, and his voice matched his gaze, “Ruin me.”

The words alone send another hot wave of arousal through San’s body and he was quick to open up the buckle of the belt, his fingers betraying his eagerness. He latched onto Wooyoung’s skin again, kissing and sucking on the tender skin of Wooyoung’s hips, as his hands pried the pants down Wooyoung’s legs, finally revealing those thighs in all their glory.

Wooyoung’s arousal was prominent, but San ignored it for now, instead moving down to appreciate the soft flesh of Wooyoung’s inner thighs, sucking on the clear skin until bruises bloomed. Wooyoung whimpered above him, making all sorts of needy sounds, his fingers pulling harder on San’s hair.

“F-fuck, San,” Wooyoung rasped.

San looked up again, his lips still attached to Wooyoung’s thighs. “You look so beautifully wrecked already,” he quipped, placing a kiss on a hickey that was purpling fast.

“Yeah?” Wooyoung practically _whimpered_.

San got up from his knees, ignoring the slight burn in his muscles from sitting in the uncomfortable position. His hands sneaked around Wooyoung’s waist, dragging him closer, away from the door and towards the tall mirrors instead, before he moved around Wooyoung, pressing himself against Wooyoung’s back.

The lights on the mirror illuminated them beautifully, making Wooyoung look like a deity.

“Look at yourself,” San whispered in Wooyoung’s ear, his hand slipping underneath the Wooyoung’s boxers, not yet touching Wooyoung’s arousal.

Wooyoung squirmed in San’s hold, his eyes fleeting between his own mirror image and San’s, his lips slightly parted, the light makeup he had been wearing already smudged around his eyes.

“Like I said,” San continued, as he let his hand _finally_ reach lower and close around Wooyoung’s cock, “You look beautifully wrecked already.”

“ _S-San_ , I--” Wooyoung let out a particularly loud moan as San flicked his wrist just right, building up the pressure. It was not enough to get Wooyoung off, but more than enough to rile him up even further.

There was something beautifully intoxicating in watching Wooyoung fall apart in front of him. San had dreamed of this moment, his traitorous brain constantly reminding him how much he was attracted to Wooyoung, and those dreams had only increased after that particular videocall. But even so, his dreams had never done Wooyoung justice, as they hadn’t been able to convey the emotions that were so evident on Wooyoung’s face.

Wooyoung was loud, not only with his voice, but also with his expressions and actions. There was a neediness in them, an unfiltered want that drove San mad. He was always one to put his partner before himself, but Wooyoung made him want to take it a step further. He wanted to take Wooyoung apart, to watch him fall, so that he could catch him and patch him back up, only to repeat the entire process again and again.

Frankly, he wanted to ruin Wooyoung as much as Wooyoung seemed to want to be ruined.

“So beautiful,” San whispered against Wooyoung’s neck, licking up to Wooyoung’s ear and placing a kiss there where Wooyoung seemed particular sensitive.

He kept his hand firmly around Wooyoung’s cock, jerking in an agonizingly slow pace. Wooyoung breathed shakily, his hips buckling up to seek the friction he needed, but San dug the fingers of his free hand in the skin on Wooyoung’s hips.

“You wanted me to ruin you,” he murmured against the shell of Wooyoung’s ear. “So be a good boy and be patient. Can you do that?” he asked. “Can you be a good boy for me, baby?”

Wooyoung nodded almost feverishly and San couldn’t help but smirk at the sight. It really was a sight to behold.

San continued to trail kisses along Wooyoung’s neck, down his spine, down the dip in Wooyoung’s back, keeping his hand where it was. Wooyoung deserved to feel loved, deserved to feel worshipped, because as much as San wanted to thoroughly ruin him, he first and foremost wanted Wooyoung to feel _good_.

He used his free hand to push down Wooyoung’s boxers, letting the material slide down his thighs with ease, coming back up afterwards to look at Wooyoung through the mirror.

“ _Fuck_ ,” San breathed, faltering a little at the sight that greeted him. “You are so beautiful, Woo.”

Wooyoungs cheeks flushed, but San was given no time to admire the pretty color as Wooyoung turned around, capturing San in another heated kiss.

His hands roamed over San’s body, gripping the soft material of San’s shirt and only breaking their kiss to get rid of it. San let it happen, all too eager for the skin-on-skin contact.

They locked lips again as soon as they could and Wooyoung was bolder in his movements, licking into San’s mouth in such a dirty way that San could do nothing but moan into the kiss, one of his hands tangling in Wooyoungs hair to _pull_.

Wooyoung made a noise and broke the kiss, moving instead to trail kisses down San’s body, taking a few seconds to suck on one erect nipple, before he moved down again, over San’s chest, down his toned stomach.

Wooyoung’s nimble fingers made quick work of San’s belt and pants, yanking it down San’s narrow hips with relative ease. He looked up, in a movement that was scarily similar to what San had done mere minutes ago, and there was a shit-eating grin on his face as he spoke, “Now who is looking beautifully wrecked, _hm_?”

San wanted to retort, but Wooyoung pressed his lips against San’s still-clothed dick and the words died a silent death in San’s throat, the pressure too good to ignore.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he cursed, his hand tightening in Wooyoung’s hair.

Wooyoung smirked and pulled down San’s underwear without breaking their eye contact. “Look at yourself,” he murmured, his breath ghosting over San’s dick as he talked.

“ _Brat_ ,” San managed to say, but anything else he might have wanted to utter got lost as his brain turned to mush.

Wooyoung had wrapped his hand around the base of San’s dick, using the leverage to lick a stripe over the thick vein underneath, before he took the tip in his mouth and _sucked_.

San couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped him, his head falling back a little in response to how good it felt. Wooyoung had always been good with his mouth, both in talking and in kissing, but this was on a whole other level.

Wooyoung breathed in and went _down_ , taking San whole and San saw stars.

His eyes looked up for a fleeting second, his head falling back a little in pleasure, and he caught sight of himself. He looked thoroughly wrecked already. His hair was a mess, his lips were swollen and red, and there were light markings on his normally unmarked skin. They would be gone before night had fallen, no doubt, and some part of him regretted it. He wanted to wake up to dark bruises on his skin, to see the evidence of Wooyoung having wrecked him as much as San was doing his best to ruin Wooyoung.

There was something erotically exciting to see yourself in the mirror while the most beautiful boy you had ever seen was sucking you off and San couldn’t help his gaze alternating between his own mirror image and Wooyoung’s.

Wooyoung was relentless in his movements, head bobbing up and down in a steady pace, his cheeks hollowing on every other movement down as he sucked, and San realized he was reaching his high far too fast and far too soon.

“Woo -- _fuck_ \-- baby…” He needed Wooyoung to stop, because as great as it was, he didn’t want to come, not yet. “Baby -- I am _close_.”

The look Wooyoung gave him should be forbidden, _especially_ when he still held the tip of San’s dick against his plush lips. The sight alone nearly made San come right there, right then.

“Come for me then,” Wooyoung said, his voice sounding thoroughly fucked. He closed his lips around San’s dick again without waiting for a response, and San nearly choked on nothing, feeling how his stomach tightened, how he was _so close_.

Wooyoung didn’t waver, continued sucking in eagerness like he had done before San had interrupted him, and San was a lost cause.

Unable to speak, the only warning he managed to give was a sharp pull on Wooyoung’s hair, but Wooyoung didn’t pull off, instead taking San even _deeper_ , swallowing around him as San came heavier than he had in _months_.

Wooyoung didn’t move, swallowing and sucking until San had to move away due to the oversensitivity.

“Jesus, Woo,” San breathed. His legs were shaking underneath him, and he needed to steady himself on the table that stood beside him.

“That good?” Wooyoung teased as he got up from where he had kneeled down. He closed the short distance between them, practically gluing himself against San, pressing kisses wherever he could reach. His own erection was pressed against San’s thigh, hard and leaking.

San let his head fall back a little, giving Wooyoung better access to his neck. “Let’s just say your mouth is not only good for talking,” he quipped, or tried to at least, but a breathy moan escaped him as Wooyoung sucked on his pulse point.

“Is that so?” Wooyoung hummed, the vibration sending shivers down San’s spine, straight down his cock that was already hardening again.

Wooyoung really would be the death of him one day.

“Yes,” San growled darkly, grabbing Wooyoung by the waist and twisting their positions, pressing Wooyoung against the table, making him gasp in surprise.

“Stay here,” San ordered, pressing a lingering kiss on Wooyoung’s lips. “Don’t move.”

“What are you going to do?” Wooyoung asked.

San shot him a dark grin, moving towards his back that was thrown in the corner. If his memory served him right, he would find what he needed in there. He had stashed those items in there a while ago, in case he ever felt like using them on himself whenever he was away for business, and he hadn’t unpacked that bag properly in what felt like forever.

“I am going to ruin you, baby,” San told him, and he actually saw Wooyoung’s dick twitch in response to that.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Wooyoung breathed, his gaze darkening as well.

San found the bottle of lube and a condom stashed somewhere in an inside pocket of the bag and carried them back to the table, placing both items down.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, taking Wooyoung’s face in his hands. He needed to make sure they were on the same page, that they both wanted this.

Wooyoung kissed him, incredibly soft and tender. “I am.”

It was all the confirmation San needed, and he uncapped the lube, applying a generous amount on his fingers. He sunk down to his knees again, placing a kiss on one of the purpling bruises on the insides of Wooyoung’s thighs.

Wooyoung hissed at that, and San placed another kiss above the bruise, in a silent apology.

His finger ghosted over Wooyoung’s rim, feeling the way Wooyoung clenched and unclenched in anticipation, and he kissed up Wooyoung’s thigh to make the younger more comfortable.

He licked a stripe up Wooyoung’s cock at the same time he let his finger slip inside, growling a little at how tight Wooyoung felt. He moved his finger experimentally, softly, not wanting to hurt or overstimulate Wooyoung in any way.

But Wooyoung was sighing above him, like he was finally where he belonged, like he had always dreamt of his.

“I’m not a virgin, San,” Wooyoung muttered, pressing down a little on San’s finger.

“I don’t wanna hurt you, baby,” San said in response. He slowly moved his finger in and out, the slide becoming easier with every pass.

“I thought you said you were going to ruin me?”

“Oh, I _will_ , don’t worry.” San crooked his finger a little, making Wooyoung shudder above him. “But I want you to be properly prepped first. Can you be patient for me, baby?”

Wooyoung made a noise and San took that as the confirmation he needed. He continued his slow pace, enjoying the way it seemed to rile Wooyoung up, and kissed his way up Wooyoung’s cock, before taking him into his mouth.

He started bobbing his head in a similar rhythm as he was pushing his finger, steady and slow, and as he dragged his lips up Wooyoung’s cock, he hollowed his cheeks, sucking as he did so, earning the most beautiful moan from Wooyoung’s mouth.

Experimentally, Sad added a second finger, relishing in the way Wooyoung became vocal again, his gasps and shaky moans spilling freely.

“ _F-fuck_ , San,” Wooyoung gasped when San crooked his fingers in a particular way, touching the particular bundle of nerves inside Wooyoung. “Fuck, do that again,” he rasped, his eyes dark and wide, and San could do nothing but comply.

He opened Wooyoung up slowly, his movements deliberate, keeping his lips on Wooyoung’s cock enough to stimulate him, but not enough to push him over the edge.

“Look at yourself,” San murmured as he crooked his fingers again, brushing over Wooyoung’s prostate, knowing Wooyoung could see himself in the tall mirrors behind San. “Watch yourself come undone.”

Wooyoung clenched around his fingers, and San continued his movements with renewed vigor. His own cock was painfully hard again, leaking precum on the floor beneath them, but he didn’t care. All his thoughts were on Wooyoung and on Wooyoung only.

Adding a third finger made Wooyoung a loud mess, all moans and shaky movements, as he tried to fuck himself on San’s fingers.

“Eager, aren’t we?” San chuckled, his fingers deliberately digging into the bruises on Wooyoung’s thighs.

“ _San_ ,” Wooyoung whined. “I’m close -- don’t stop.”

“Not yet, baby,” San responded, though he made no indication to slow his movements. “Hold on a little longer for me.”

Wooyoung moaned, something loud and sinful, and San felt how he tightened the muscles in his legs. “ _Please_ ,” he practically begged.

“Just a little longer,” San urged and Wooyoung let out something in-between a moan and a cry.

San thrust in a fourth finger as he moved up, releasing Wooyoung’s cock from his mouth with a loud _pop_.

“Let go, baby,” he whispered in Wooyoung’s ear, holding Wooyoung steady, holding him close. “Come for me.”

Wooyoung nearly shouted as he came, his orgasm rippling through him almost violently, but San was already there to catch him, to prevent him from falling.

“That’s it, baby,” he muttered, pressing delicate kisses against Wooyoung’s temple, one arm steady around Wooyoung’s waist, the other softly entwined in Wooyoung’s hair. “You did so well,” he praised. “I love you so much, Woo, _so much_.”

Wooyoung was trembling against him, his breathing ragged, and San kept on pressing soft kisses wherever he could reach, holding Wooyoung close.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he promised.

“Fuck,” Wooyoung rasped, his face hidden in the crook of San’s neck. “That was…”

“Good?”

Wooyoung leaned back a little, placing a soft kiss against San’s jaw. “More than good. Definitely worth the wait.”

San hummed in agreement, before he reached for the box of tissues that stood a little further on the table, silently thanking his makeup artist for leaving it behind. He grabbed a few tissues and gently whipped away all the come from Wooyoung’s stomach, who looked, for lack of a better term, still blissfully fucked out.

There was a frown on his face however, and his eyes were on San’s still very hard dick.

“You’re still hard,” he said, stating the obvious.

San huffed a laugh. “It’s _fine_ , baby, it will go away soon enough.”

San was _not_ prepared for Wooyoung to grab his chin between his thumb and index finger, effectively pulling San closer until their faces were mere inches apart.

“I thought I asked you to ruin me,” he breathed, and San felt a shiver run down his spine. “I’m not ruined yet, Sannie.”

San cursed. _Loudly_. All rational thought flew out of the window at that second and he gripped Wooyoung tight, his fingers digging into Wooyoung’s hips. “You’re going to be the death of me, Woo.”

Wooyoung smirked at him and San noticed how Wooyoung’s dick was already getting hard again. “As long as you fuck me properly before you die.”

“ _Brat_.”

He didn’t give Wooyoung any time to respond, instead crashing their lips back together and maneuvering them around the table a little.

“Put your hands on the table,” San ordered as they broke apart. “And keep looking at yourself in the mirror. I want you to see how you’re going to fall apart.”

Wooyoung moaned. “Fuck, San.”

San moved around Wooyoung, taking a second to appreciate Wooyoung’s gorgeous form as Wooyoung leaned forward, ass propped upwards. San pressed three fingers back inside without warning, grabbing for the condom with his other free hand.

Not for the first time that night, San was mesmerized by their mirror images. Wooyoung was so incredibly beautiful, so insanely hot, and San wished they could say in this moment forever.

Wooyoung, however, wasn’t as patient, his whimpers growing with every second that San kept on teasing him with his fingers.

“ _Sannie_ ,” he whined, in that particular way that had San already addicted. It was impossible to deny Wooyoung anything when he sounded like that.

He pulled out his fingers to open the package and roll the condom down on himself, using the excess lube on his fingers to slick himself up.

He lined himself up, looking at Wooyoung through the mirror. “Ready, babe?”

“I was ready two fingers ago, just--”

San effectively shut Wooyoung up by pressing in, soft enough to not hurt Wooyoung, but hard enough to make Wooyoung choke on the remainder of his words as he moaned out loudly.

“You were saying?” he teased, slowly easing himself in. “ _Fuck_ , you feel amazing baby.”

Wooyoung arched his back in response, propping his ass up higher, enabling San to go a little deeper.

“ _Move_ ,” Wooyoung moaned, and San did. Slow and soft thrusts as first, tentatively testing Wooyoung’s limits, keeping a careful eye on Wooyoung’s face to check for any pain or discomfort.

But San found none, only pleasure edged on Wooyoung’s pretty features, and he took that as enough encouragement to pick up his pace.

Wooyoung was a moaning mess beneath him already, so incredibly _loud_ , but San loved it all, loved everything Wooyoung did. There was something incredibly hot about having a vocal partner, who wasn’t vocal for the sake of being vocal, but was vocal because of who they were as person. Wooyoung was loud in most things he did, even if he was very much capable of toning things down when the situation required that.

But here, in this situation, there was no need for Wooyoung to keep it down, and San was drunk on all the sounds he made, addicted to the hearing his own name fall from Wooyoung’s lips in beautiful moans that went straight to his own dick.

Not that he was much better off himself, as moans spilled from him freely and without shame. He was fucking Wooyoung in earnest now, the unmistakable sound of skin slapping against skin resonating through the room, the smell of sex surrounding them.

“I’m -- _ah_ \-- close, Sannie,” Wooyoung managed to utter.

San only slammed in harder, one hand tangling in Wooyoung’s hair and giving it a light pull. “Think you can come untouched?” he asked with some effort.

Wooyoung made a noise. “I--”

San angled his thrusts a little, finding Wooyoung’s prostate in the process and Wooyoung moaned loud and filthy underneath him.

“ _Yes_ , right there,” Wooyoung babbled and San complied, thrusting in with harsh and precise thrusts, watching how Wooyoung was falling apart underneath him.

For a little while, neither of them spoke, their moans the only sound that broke the silence, as San gave all he had and Wooyoung took all he could.

He could see Wooyoung was falling over the edge before Wooyoung gave any indication that he was. His features morphed into pure unfiltered pleasure, his lips parted and taking in gasping breaths, and suddenly his body was shuddering, his orgasm rippling through him.

The sight alone, and the way Wooyoung tightened around him was enough to send San over the edge too, and he tried to keep them steady, tried to keep Wooyoung close as he succumbed to the heatwave of pleasure that cursed through him.

San only pulled out once he was certain neither of them would collapse on the table. He took off the condom, tying it and dropping it in the little bin that stood in the corner. He grabbed a few more tissues on his way back to Wooyoung, using them to clean up the both of them.

They were silent throughout it, Wooyoung having twisted again so he was leaning with his back against the table, and San took his time in taking care of Wooyoung, until they were both clean and there was nothing San could do to linger.

It was Wooyoung who broke the silence, his voice soft. “Sannie?”

“Yes?”

Wooyoung looked at him, his eyes so incredibly fond. “I am sorry for everything. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“It’s okay,” San said, and he meant it. “I’m sorry for hurting you too.”

Wooyoung bit his lips, and suddenly San could see the remnants of the shy boy he had met upon their first meeting. “I meant it, by the way,” Wooyoung continued.

“You meant what?” San asked, closing the distance between them again until his hands were resting on Wooyoung’s naked thighs and Wooyoung rested his hands on San’s waist. It felt oddly domestic.

“That I’m in love with you and that I want you to be mine.”

San smiled, placing a quick kiss on Wooyoung’s lips. “And I meant it when I said that I’ve been yours ever since we first met.”

Wooyoung’s face lit up, a blinding smile tugging on the corners of his lips. “So, you’re mine?”

“I’m yours as long as you’ll have me,” San answered honestly.

“I might never let you go, though.”

San grinned. “I wouldn’t want you to.”

Wooyoung kissed him again and San met him halfway, realizing that they were going to be okay. He was Wooyoung’s, and Wooyoung’s was his, and together they would figure this out.

\--

Getting themselves to look presentable again proved to be a bit of a challenge.

Wooyoung shirt (which technically, was San’s shirt) was worse for wear and San ended up offering him the shirt he had been wearing when he had arrived here. Wooyoung didn’t seem to mind, happily pulling the slightly-too-big shirt over his head.

San tried (and failed miserably) to not constantly look at Wooyoung, ignoring the way his heart fluttered at the sight of Wooyoung in his clothes.

Wooyoung, the little shit, threw him a knowing smirk whenever he caught San staring.

San was busy trying to salvage his makeup, silently thanking the girl who had done his makeup earlier that she had kept the look relatively natural and simple, when a knock on the door shook him out of his thoughts.

Wooyoung moved first, considering he was closer to the door, and opened it. San eyed him through the mirror, but couldn’t see who was standing outside.

“Oh, hey Seonghwa,” Wooyoung chirped happily, and San frowned at that.

“Hey Wooyoung,” Seonghwa answered and San could hear that he was smiling. “Can I come in?”

Wooyoung stepped aside, making a vague motion with his hand as he allowed Seonghwa in.

“You guys sound awfully chummy,” San remarked. He was busy dabbing some concealer on his neck, where a particular bruise was a little more prominent than he had expected. Wooyoung didn’t look the slightest bit guilty about it, instead smirking knowingly. Not that people wouldn’t figure out what had transpired between them, because the bruises on Wooyoung’s neck were enough of a telltale sign as is, and he had politely refused to cover them up.

“We’ve spoken before.” Seonghwa shrugged, as if that answer explained everything. It honestly didn’t.

Wooyoung sat back down on the couch again. “He’s the reason I actually managed to get into this meet-and-greet.”

San arched an eyebrow. “As much as I am trying to connect the dots, I am going to need more than those two sentences.”

Seonghwa chuckled, leaning a bit against the table. San’s mind involuntarily flashed back to what had transpired there a few minutes earlier, but he decided not to mention it, for the sake of Seonghwa’s sanity.

“A friend of Wooyoung contacted me a little while ago. Hongjoong?” Seonghwa asked, sounding unsure whether San actually knew Hongjoong.

“I’ve met him through videocalls a few times,” San said. “He’s basically the dad of the group, right?” He looked at Wooyoung for confirmation, smiling a little when Wooyoung nodded enthusiastically.

“Well, Hongjoong contacted me,” Seonghwa continued. “Said there were some things we needed to talk about and that it was in both of our best interests to do so.”

Wooyoung snorted. “Sounds like something Hongjoong would say, yes.”

“He mentioned there was some miscommunication and he didn’t think that Wooyoung had it in him to fix everything by himself.”

“I hate that he was right about that,” Wooyoung muttered.

“So,” Seonghwa continued, as if Wooyoung hadn’t interrupted him, but he sent a comforting smile Wooyoung’s way. “We met up, talked about the situation, and together we called Wooyoung. I explained I could pull some strings for the meet-and-greet, and that Eden would be fine with it. It was the perfect opportunity to force you two to be together and talk about everything.”

“I don’t know whether I want to smack you for going at this behind my back or to hug you for going at this behind my back,” San said, standing from the crouched position he had been in.

Seonghwa already had his arms open, smile broad and warm. “I’ll take the hug.”

San fell forward, into Seonghwa’s ready arms, and hugged him, hiding his face into the crook of Seonghwa’s neck. “ _Thank you_ ,” he breathed, meaning it with every fiber of his being.

Seonghwa patted his head in a comforting manner. “You’re welcome, San.”

They let go after that and San, almost instinctively, looked at Wooyoung. But Wooyoung was looking at the two of them with a serene, almost fond, expression on his face.

“Bring him along next time when you come dancing with us,” he said, and San could have kissed him again for that. “I think he’d fit right into our group of misfits.”

Seonghwa smiled small at that, a blush tinting his cheeks. “You think so?”

Wooyoung fluttered his hand a little. “Definitely. The crew will break my neck if I don’t bring San soon to properly introduce them, and you two are kind of a package deal.” He grinned then. “Besides, Hongjoong has been going on and on about the meeting you two had.”

Seonghwa choked on air, his blush deepening. “He has?”

Wooyoung nodded, still grinning broadly. “I think our group could use a mom. So please, feel free to join our dance practices whenever you’re free.”

“I will,” Seonghwa promised, smiling something San hadn’t seen in a long time. It was a private smile, guarding whatever Seonghwa was currently feeling, but San knew enough, and he couldn’t help but smile himself.

“But that’s not why I’m here,” Seonghwa continued, chuckling a little. “The break is pretty much over and Eden asked me to check on you two.” He turned his attention to San then. “You okay with going back to the meet-and-greet?”

San sighed. “I _think_ I am, but I have no idea what to expect. I mean…” He gestured vaguely between him and Wooyoung. “We did kind of make out in front of all of those people.”

Seonghwa laughed. “Kind of? San, you guys would have been charged with public indecency if Eden hadn’t stepped in.”

San felt heat creep up his face. “That’s _not_ my fault, okay,” he muttered, not even believing himself.

“Oh, so it is _my_ fault?” Wooyoung snickered from the couch.

San shot him a playful look. “You were the one kissing me first, remember?”

“ _Alright lovebirds_ ,” Seonghwa interjected, shaking his head a little. “Figure this out on your own time, okay? Eden wants you back and it is up to you how you want to deal with this situation.”

San looked at Wooyoung, who was looking so pretty in the soft lighting of the room, his long bangs framing his face, and he unconsciously reached out. Wooyoung responded immediately, climbing off the couch and entwining their fingers as he took his place beside San.

“Can he come with me?” San asked, looking at Seonghwa again.

“Of course,” Seonghwa answered. “Like I said, it’s up to you how you want to deal with this.”

San gently squeezed their joined hands, focusing his attention back on Wooyoung. “Would you be okay with that?” he asked. He didn’t want to overstep Wooyoung’s boundaries and taking Wooyoung out there would throw him into a spotlight that wouldn’t leave. Just because San had chosen fame didn’t mean that others wanted that too.

“You think I would have signed up for this shit if I wouldn’t be okay with it?” Wooyoung joked, nudging San’s shoulder softly with his own. “I knew this was a possibility when I agreed to come here, San. And besides, I think it’s time the world knows we are together, so they can stop creating rumors about you and Seonghwa.” He looked at Seonghwa then, smiling a little apologetically. “No offence, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa held up his hands. “None taken.”

San looked at Wooyoung, a little stunned by how easily Wooyoung was willing to adjust himself to the life San was living.

“You know there will be no way back once we step out together, right?” he asked once more.

Wooyoung leaned up a little, though he didn’t really have to considering they were almost the same height, and placed a kiss on San’s cheeks. “I love you, San. _All_ of you. I don’t want to hide us, considering that’s kinda how we got into this entire mess in the first place. You might have to help me adjust here and there, but I know there will be no way back. And frankly, I don’t want there to be.”

San felt himself choke up and he leaned forward, capturing Wooyoung in a heartfelt kiss. “I love you so much, Woo,” he whispered against Wooyoung’s lips and he felt Wooyoung smile into the kiss.

“You guys are giving me a severe case of cavities,” Seonghwa muttered, making San break away. But Seonghwa was smiling, looking incredibly happy at the two of them. “Come on, you guys have all the time in the world _after_ this event.”

San laughed, because no truer words had been spoken. They did have all the time in the world after this, time enough to figure everything out.

“You ready?” he asked one last time and Wooyoung nodded, pretty smile on his lips.

“Lead the way,” he responded, and together, hands still entwined, they followed Seonghwa out of the backstage room.

\--

Wooyoung may have said that he was ready, but San could feel the way his hold tightened, and he tried his best to comfort him, caressing the back of Wooyoung’s hand with his thumb and keeping him close.

Seonghwa walked beside them, and San, once again, felt eternally grateful to have his best friend by his side during this entire situation. Seonghwa was as calming a presence as he ever was, someone he could lean on, and it calmed down the fluttering nerves that were very much present in his stomach.

There was no way to predict what would happen once they would step inside the room again, where there were fans and reporters, where their relationship would be made public before either of them could make a proper statement. It wasn’t how San would have liked it to go, but there was also no other way - not anymore. And like Wooyoung had said, San didn’t want to hide them. People had seen them kiss, people had seen them leave to go backstage, their hands entwined in a similar way as they were now, and people would have questions.

There was no way San would be able to sit through another couple of hours of meeting fans and evade each and every one of their questions.

The crowd was deafening, all loud screams and excited chatter, and San practically felt Wooyoung’s nerves spike. He squeezed their joint hands again, softly kissing against the side of Wooyoung’s head. “I won’t let go of you,” he promised. Wooyoung squeezed back in response.

More people were just now returning to their seat, smiling a knowing smile towards the three of them, some of them doing a quick thumbs up before they walked into the room where the meet-and-greet was held.

“We’re all happy for the two of you,” Seonghwa said. “And I’m sure the fans will be too. Your fans are kind, San. They’ll still be kind and whoever isn’t will be removed from the room immediately. Eden made sure you have multiple people monitoring your meetings.”

“That man is seriously a godsend,” San remarked, feeling his nerves settle down. Knowing that there were enough people monitoring his meetings was a luxury he hadn’t wanted to ask for. But he should have known that Eden took this entire situation more serious than any other person ever would.

“Told you so,” Seonghwa smirked, before he stepped through the double doors that led into the grand room, the entire movement rather unceremoniously.

San was glad for that, as it gave him no time to second-guess his decision, and with Wooyoung’s hand firm in his, they followed Seonghwa into the room.

If the screams had been deafening before, San wasn’t sure what they were _now_. He could barely think above the volume of the sound that practically wrecked his ears, let alone hear what people were even saying. But there were cheers, some people were clapping, and he focused on that, using the positive anchors he could find to ground him.

Seonghwa kept in step beside them, waving towards the crowd, leading them towards their respective tables. San noticed, with a little surprise, that an extra chair had been placed between them, obviously meant for Wooyoung. His eyes found Eden with ease, who was standing on the side a little, keeping a careful watch on the excited crowd. When he noticed San however, he smiled knowingly and San mouthed a _thank you_ , nodding his head along with it.

They took their places, keeping their hands entwined. Wooyoung’s eyes flitted around the ground nervously, but San could see he as calming down, slowly growing accustomed to what was happening. His features were relaxing, slowly morphing into something that held the same confidence Wooyoung showed when he was on stage. It was breathtaking to see.

Eden joined them soon enough, a microphone in his hand and he held it out towards San. “Do you want to give the crowd a little… _heads up_ about the situation before more rumors will float around?”

San looked at Wooyoung, who only gave a small nod, before he took the microphone Eden was holding for him. “Thank you,” he said, “for everything.”

Eden smiled, almost fatherly so, and gently squeezed San’s shoulder. “I’m just glad to see you happy again, boy.”

San stood, regretfully letting go of Wooyoung as he did so and moved to stand in front of his table, leaning against it. He gently tapped the mic a few times, pleased to hear it was already on.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he looked at the crowd in front of him, who had become quiet all of a sudden, sensing that something was about to happen.

“Uhm…” He began, immediately huffing a small laugh at his own nerves. The crowd laughed along with him, and somehow, it made the entire situation a lot less daunting. “Well, hi everybody,” he greeted the crowd before him, grinning a little. A chorus of mixed greetings filled the room with sounds before it quieted down again.

“I have no idea what I am going to say, because I did not plan this _at all_ , unlike another statement I did a couple of weeks ago.” He allowed a small pause to fall and he could hear Seonghwa snicker behind him, the crowd in front of him laughing. “But I guess I will just tell you guys what you have to know and then we can all go back to the actual purpose of this event. Does that sound alright with you?”

The crowd voiced their approval and San smiled broadly, throwing a quick glance towards Wooyoung. Wooyoung was cuddling up against Seonghwa and the sight was positively adorable, making San’s heart squeeze in itself in happiness.

He turned back to the crowd, gathering his thoughts before he spoke. “I think most of you have figured some things out by now, but in case you haven’t, I’m going to clear things up. A couple of weeks ago, when I… When Seonghwa and I made our statement, I mentioned someone. Someone who had become important to me, someone who I had fallen in love with. Someone I’m still very much in love with.”

The crowd was extraordinary silent, and San took it as his cue to continue.

“I really have to thank some dear friends for this, including Seonghwa--”

“You’re welcome!” Seonghwa shouted, loud enough for the crowd closest to them to hear, making them laugh, San included.

“ _As I was saying_ ,” San continued, still grinning. “Some friends decided to meddle with things, because there was no way we would have done this by ourselves. I’m glad they did though, because it is because of _them_ that I can stand here and introduce you all to the person I love.”

He turned around a little, reaching out to Wooyoung. Wooyoung stood almost immediately and entwined their fingers again, before taking his place beside San. It made San’s heart flutter in all the right ways.

“Everyone,” he said, squeezing Wooyoung’s hand for what felt like the umpteenth time, “meet Wooyoung.”

The crowd _roared_ , though San was sure he heard some less positive noises too, but he ignored those, instead focusing on the way Wooyoung was handling this entire situation like a _king_ , waving towards the crowd in front of them, smile on his face. And even if San could see the faint blush on Wooyoung’s cheeks, a byproduct of the shy persona Wooyoung sometimes sported, he was so incredibly proud of the man beside him, his heart swelling in ways he had never thought were possible.

He looked back at the crowd. “And before anyone can make up any new rumors, let me make it very clear to you all that Wooyoung and I are in a relationship. And if anyone ever does anything to hurt him, you’ll have to deal with _me_.”

Wooyoung nudged their shoulders together, but the smile on his face told San enough and he couldn’t help but lean forward to place a chaste kiss on Wooyoung’s lips. He had already threatened the world, might as well go all out now that he was at it.

There was a beautiful shade of pink on Wooyoung’s cheeks as San pulled back, but he was smiling broadly.

The crowd was so incredibly loud, voicing their approval, or whatever else they were screaming - San honestly couldn’t care less. He could only care about the way Wooyoung was looking at him as they sat back down again, their hands still entwined, not letting go unless they absolutely had to the remainder of the event.

And with every little smile, with every loving touch, San knew things would work out, knew that things would be okay.

_They_ would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is! This was the last 'official' chapter of this fic, but fear not, there is still one last chapter that functions as an epilogue, because I wasn't quite done with this AU yet. That entire chapter is pretty much self-indulgent, and it contains one of my favourite scenes ever written, as well as wrapping some last things up here and there. 
> 
> That being said, I want to thank each and everyone for taking their time to read, to leave kudos, to leave comments. I swear, some of your comments cracked me up so much and I had to restrain myself to not upload this chapter immediately after the last. Thank you, seriously, from the bottom of my fragile writer's heart.
> 
> The next, and last, chapter will be out on Sunday.
> 
> Until then!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What do you want, baby?” he asked, keeping his voice down, even if it was just the two of them.
> 
> Wooyoung hummed softly, before his eyes fluttered open. “You,” he answered, “and everything you’re willing to give.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is this, the last chapter a day early? Considering I have a busy schedule tomorrow, and because your comments have been so nice and heartwarming, I thought I'd upload this last chapter a day early. Enjoy it, y'all. Hope you love it as much as I loved writing it!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing but my imagination and mistakes.

As it turned out, most people were extremely positive towards San and Wooyoung, as had been evident during the meet-and-greet. Of course, there had been some teary-eyed people who had seemed gutted about the fact that San was no longer available or that he was gay, or both. San had done his best to comfort those people, hoping they could at least leave with a smile if nothing else.

But mostly, the response was positive, and any negativity was easily forgotten. 

Considering they did live in the 21st century, videos of their heartfelt kiss and San’s short statement had been uploaded within minutes, making it trend on multiple social platforms. This time, however, San had been prepared for that to happen and had checked in on it as soon as he had been able to.

It was a bit odd to see strangers talk so animatedly about a relationship that wasn’t even twenty-four hours old, but he let it be, not wanting to add fuel to something that was just some harmless discussion. 

Unsurprisingly, people found out who exactly Wooyoung was quite easily, and soon there were clips of Wooyoung dancing circling around the internet. San was both pleased and horrified with some of the responses, but Wooyoung only laughed at them, saying it was totally fine and that this would also give the group some much-needed spotlight.

He certainly wasn’t wrong about that.

Dating Wooyoung didn’t change much about the relationship they had had _before_ the entire rumor-debacle, apart from the definite and obvious increase in physical activities, but it did change other things. They still texted and called often, but Wooyoung would often find his way back to San’s home at the end of a tiring practice day, and San would already be waiting for him, steaming bowl of food on the table. 

It was a domesticity that San had never considered, but found he craved. Having Wooyoung around so often felt more normal than anything he had ever felt and Wooyoung fitted himself into San’s life with ease. 

It certainly helped that San had voiced his desire to Eden to take a short break from acting, simply because he had just done two movies back to back and he could afford the luxury of taking an extended break. Eden, bless his soul, agreed to it without second thoughts, and suddenly San found himself with a lot of time on his hands. Time he could suddenly spent on things he had ignored for what felt like forever.

He joined Wooyoung a few times a week to the dance studio, Seonghwa tagging along with them often enough, and soon it was the eight of them: Wooyoung and his tight group of friends, along with San and Seonghwa. 

The first meeting had been a bit awkward, at least for the first minute, before Yeosang had walked towards San and had hugged him with an earnest neither had seemed to expect. From that moment on, both San and Seonghwa had found a place within the group, and friendships had started to blossom with relative ease.

To no one’s surprise, Seonghwa had wormed his way into the role of group mom, doting on and caring for every one of them with nothing but sincere kindness. 

San enjoyed those nights a lot, where they would simply come together to talk and dance, just a group of eight ordinary guys together. No one cared that San and Seonghwa were famous, and no one shoved a camera in their face whenever San felt the need to cuddle or kiss Wooyoung. The dance studio became a refuge, a sanctuary almost, where San could be who he was, surrounded by people that cared for him and loved him for who he was. 

It certainly didn’t hurt that San enjoyed dancing again more than he thought. There was something liberating in giving his all during routines that were so grueling sometimes, he woke up with aches in muscles he didn’t know he had. 

Sometimes, whenever they felt they had done a particular good job one a certain choreography, Yunho would convince them to record it, and to let him upload it on his Youtube channel. At first, people seemed to watch it simply because San and Seonghwa were part of it, but the more often they uploaded something, the more obvious it became that it wasn’t just because of them, not anymore. Instead, people came for all eight of them, and San couldn’t feel prouder as he watched his newfound family grow in recognition and appreciation. 

It was what they deserved, really.

Time flew by, as time always did whenever one was enjoying oneself. 

Before San was well aware, winter had gone and come, with Christmas turning out to be a loud affair, where San and Seonghwa had been invited to join the crew, and the eight of them had celebrated it in a variety of forms, with family members from most of them popping up here and there. New Year’s Eve had been spent with just the eight of them, but that hadn’t made it any less loud or chaotic, and San had celebrated the new year by kissing Wooyoung, surrounded by the loud cheers and wolf whistles of the people he now considered both friends and family.

He was pretty sure he saw Hongjoong kiss a very flustered, but very willing Seonghwa, and even though no one mentioned it, San was happy that Seonghwa had found someone for himself too, even if their love was just beginning to bloom.

The remaining months of winter were mild, already paving the way for a beautiful spring, and San took Wooyoung to his first ever movie premiere. Despite everything, Wooyoung had turned out to be incredibly good in handling the media, fitting right into San’s world of chaos and blinding lights. 

There were times, of course, where it got too much for Wooyoung, but San was always there to catch him, to soothe him, and to love him until Wooyoung was calm again and seemed ready to face the world again. In a way, San often thought, it probably helped that they were all open about it on their respective social medias. Now that their group of eight had become such a tight group of friends, it wasn’t just San and Seonghwa who were in the spotlight, but the remainder of the group as well. They all talked about the discomfort of living a life in the spotlight openly, though they always made sure to express their appreciation for the fans and for everything fame gave them. But it didn’t mean that there weren’t days where they didn’t struggle, and making the people that supported them understand that, even if it was only a little, seemed to always help a bit in dealing with everything.

But if there was one thing San increasingly learned, it was that Wooyoung was strong and above all stubborn like no other. Having Wooyoung next to him during the premiere of the cheesy movie he had been filming when they had only known one another for a short while had made San prouder than ever. Wooyoung had looked stunning, in a classic suit, all beauty and grace, and he had been polite and kind to everyone.

All in all, life was good, _really_ good, and San wouldn’t trade it for anything.

For the first time in his life, he felt like he belonged, and that was all that mattered.

\--

“Babe.”

San groaned, sleep still clinging heavy to his body. If he would lay still, he could easily succumb to it again, his mind tiptoeing on the edge of being awake and asleep.

A finger that prodded into his ribcage, however, tipped him over the edge and San could feel the remnants of sleep slipping through the shallow parts of his mind, his body slowly being coaxed into being awake. 

He groaned again.

“ _Sannie_.” Wooyoung prodded again, a little harder this time, and San, reluctantly turned around. He had been dreaming something pretty, but now that he was becoming more awake with each second, the dream seemed but a faraway memory and he could no longer remember it. 

Soft fingers trickled over his cheekbones and San allowed himself this moment of calmness, simply enjoying the soft ministrations Wooyoung was giving him. It wasn’t often that they could sleep in a little, because despite San’s current break in his acting career, their days tended to be packed with busy schedules. 

San liked it like that, honestly, because he enjoyed being busy and most of their schedules were joined one way or another and spending most of his time with Wooyoung felt like such a blessing that San hardly complained about the early mornings and long days.

But sometimes he could really appreciate the slow mornings, where he could actually see the sun climb higher as they wasted away the morning hours in bed, too far gone in their own little world, where it was just the two of them.

Wooyoung’s fingers became more persistent, digging into the skin with deliberate intent. 

San opened his eyes, only to be met with a sight he would never grow tired of. Wooyoung was leaning over him, their faces closer than he had anticipated them to be, Wooyoung’s face void of any makeup and his hair still tousled from sleep. It was a version of Wooyoung rarely anyone saw, and San felt privileged to see it as often as he did.

Wooyoung’s smile was instantaneous and San couldn’t help but smile in response.

“Hey baby,” he muttered, leaning up to kiss Wooyoung softly, in that particular way he knew Wooyoung enjoyed in the morning, despite Wooyoung saying otherwise. But San knew it was a little game Wooyoung liked to play, and San was always willing to play along, unable to deny Wooyoung anything. 

He felt Wooyoung melt into the kiss, and for countless minutes they simply enjoyed the comfort of a slow morning, where there was time to enjoy the small things, and where they could get lost in one another’s love. 

San let his fingers trail down Wooyoung’s naked torso, loving the way the soft skin felt underneath his fingertips. There was no hurry in his movements, simply because there was no need to be quick. 

Wooyoung was pliant in San’s hands, all gentle curves and soft gasps as San gently coaxed his mouth open, almost leisurely so, exploring Wooyoung’s mouth with his tongue even though there was nothing left to explore. They had shared countless of kisses by now, from quick pecks on the lips to heated kisses that left them both breathless and in need of more, as well as everything in-between.

But San still enjoyed it, still loved the way Wooyoung responded to everything San did, always so eager match, always so pleased to be loved.

Wooyoung sighed into the kiss, one of blissful content. San loved the little sounds, drinking them in like the addict he still was. 

He sneaked one arm around Wooyoung’s waist, enjoying how it felt to hold Wooyoung like that. It always prickled some sort of primal sense inside San, and despite Wooyoung’s bratty nature, San had learned that Wooyoung enjoyed giving San control most of the time. They switched, sometimes, whenever they felt like it, and Wooyoung had fucked San’s brain out on a handful of occasions, but San knew that wasn’t what Wooyoung wanted now.

It was evident in the way Wooyoung was _quiet_ , all soft noises and gentle touches, a simple and open invitation of _love me, pretty please_ , and who was San to deny him?

And if he was fair, San was in a mood to make love to Wooyoung, where they would become lost in the softest form of love, so entranced by each other that the world faded away.

He flipped them over, as gently as he could, carefully guiding Wooyoung down into the soft mattress and plush pillows, and Wooyoung let him, still so soft and willing in San’s strong arms.

Wooyoung looked so beautiful like this, with his features open and vulnerable, a soft smile on his lips, and his eyes filled with love. San wasn’t sure whether it was possible, but he always felt himself fall a little more in love whenever Wooyoung showed this side of himself. 

San hovered over Wooyoung, their legs already entangling as if it was second nature, and perhaps it was, seeing how accustomed they had grown to one another and their antics. Being with Wooyoung had always felt easy, had always felt like _home_.

“You’re so beautiful,” San whispered into the silent room and Wooyoung’s blinding smile was all San needed to see. “So _beautiful_ ,” he repeated again, before he let himself lean down a little to capture Wooyoung’s lips between his.

Kissing was something they did often, but San never grew tired of it. It wasn’t often that they had the time to kiss for hours and hours on end, but it felt like they had that time now, and San was in no rush. 

Wooyoung pressed them closer together, gently tangling one hand in San’s sleep-tousled hair, the other cupping San’s cheek so softly that San felt his heart skip a beat at the tenderness. 

For the second time since waking up, San allowed himself to become lost in the kisses, in Wooyoung’s plush lips, and in the unspoken love that resonated in their touches. There was no need to voice his love, not right now, considering their actions spoke louder than words. 

One of his hands trailed down Wooyoung’s torso, enjoying the way the muscles shifted underneath his fingertips. It was evident that Wooyoung slaved away in the dance studio, the muscles in his lithe body becoming more prominent and San took his time appreciating them, nearly worshipping Wooyoung’s body with soft touches of his fingers.

When they broke apart, after what felt like _forever_ , Wooyoung’s eyes remained closed, a blissful smile on his face and San couldn’t help but press another lingering kiss on the corner of Wooyoung’s mouth. 

“What do you want, baby?” he asked, keeping his voice down, even if it was just the two of them.

Wooyoung hummed softly, before his eyes fluttered open. “You,” he answered, “and everything you’re willing to give.”

The line was borderline cheesy, probably even worse than some scripted lines San had been forced to act out for some of his movies, but it didn’t matter. It was _Wooyoung_ who spoke them, and somehow that made all the difference.

San leaned down again, locking their lips for the umpteenth time as he moved his body over Wooyoung’s, slotting their hips together. He gasped into the kiss at the feeling, no matter how often he had felt it. There was just something about Wooyoung that always made him feel a bit unbalanced, and no matter how often they had done things together, every single time felt like the first.

They unhurriedly got rid of their underwear, giggling a little at the odd angle, and San marveled at the way Wooyoung’s cheeks still flushed a little at that, kissing them until the pink color had long faded and Wooyoung was all soft gasps underneath him.

San still let his fingertips caress Wooyoung’s skin, drawing gentle patterns that meant nothing but delicate ministrations, and Wooyoung arched into them, allowing San to do as he pleased.

“Sannie,” Wooyoung breathed in such a beautiful way, his eyes dark, and San felt himself fall deeper.

“Yes, baby?” 

Wooyoung kissed him, short and sweet, before he leaned back a little to lock eyes again. “Make love to me.”

And San was so _helpless_ when it came to Wooyoung. “Anything you want, baby,” he responded, meaning the words with every fiber of his being.

They managed to untangle themselves long enough for San to reach over to the nightstand, grabbing the bottle of lube they had unceremoniously stashed in there. He ignored the condoms that lay there too, considering they got tested a little while ago and were clean, and well… There was just something about making love to Wooyoung without the feeling of a latex condom dividing them.

Wooyoung smirked at him knowingly, but the smirk was too soft to have any bite, and San kissed the remainder away until Wooyoung was just smiling that small, starstruck smile San loved so much. 

He took his time opening up Wooyoung, gently coaxing in one lubed up finger as he pressed kisses in Wooyoung’s neck. He didn’t mark this time, partly because there were still remnants of purple bruises on Wooyoung’s skin from a particular rough night a couple of days ago, but mostly because there was no need for it now. Wooyoung was responsive enough to the barely-there touches of lips on skin from San as it was, and San wanted to keep this as soft as it was now, where it was just them and their emotions.

San mumbled praises into Wooyoung’s ear as he worked slowly, almost agonizingly so. But Wooyoung didn’t voice any complaints, seeming content to stick to the steady pace, basking in the praises San provided him. 

A soft moan escaped Wooyoung when San pressed in a second finger, and San was already there to kiss the sound away. Wooyoung had tangled his fingers in San’s hair again, keeping him close, and San wouldn’t have it any other way.

Where Wooyoung tended to be vocal during other times they had sex, he was remarkably quiet now. But where his voice was almost silent, his actions were loud and clear, his body responding in all the right ways to San’s lips and fingers. 

“You’re doing so well, baby,” San praised again, kissing along Wooyoung’s jaw. “You’re so perfect, you know that right?”

Wooyoung just hummed, seemingly too lost in the hue of pleasure they were both drowning in, and San smiled affectionately. 

They kissed and touched, soft sounds echoing through the room, as San took his time working Wooyoung open, never really quickening his pace, keeping it steady and slow, loving and caring, until Wooyoung started to whimper underneath him, an almost-silent plea that he was ready for more. 

Like with any other request from Wooyoung, whether it was silent or vocal, San obliged, adding a third finger. Wooyoung moaned, but the sound got muffled against San’s skin. 

“ _S-san_ ,” Wooyoung breathed, and San recognized it as Wooyoung telling him he was almost ready.

“I love you so much, Woo,” San whispered in-between kisses, his three fingers now comfortably sliding in and out of Wooyoung with relative ease. He contemplated opening up Wooyoung further, but for the first time since waking up, Wooyoung was growing somewhat impatient, squirming against San’s hold as he seemed to seek _more_. 

And perhaps, San was becoming a little impatient too.

Both of their cocks had been ignored the entire time, but San didn’t need to look down to know they were both already hard and dripping, and frankly, he just wanted to be inside Wooyoung and let himself succumb to the feeling of being one.

“I love you too,” Wooyoung answered, with so much devotion in his voice that San wasn’t sure whether his heart would actually stay inside his ribcage.

He gave Wooyoung another lingering kiss as he let his fingers slip out, using the remaining lube on his fingers to slick himself up. He knew Wooyoung could take it, knew Wooyoung would probably welcome the slight pain, if it happened to be there.

But Wooyoung seemed utterly relaxed beneath him, and San had learned long ago to trust Wooyoung’s body language. And right now, Wooyoung’s body language was clearly telling San that Wooyoung was _ready_.

He pressed in slowly, keeping a careful eye on Wooyoung’s face, but all Wooyoung’s beautiful features showed was blissful content, his breathy moans like music to San’s ears. 

It took him longer than usual to bottom out, but Wooyoung didn’t complain, and going so slow added something to the overall sensation, so San wasn’t complaining either. They simply breathed and gasped as one, and Wooyoung pulled San close again, capturing him in the umpteenth kiss. 

The pace San set was slow and unhurried, like everything else had been so far, all delicate and gentle moves, and Wooyoung moved along with him, in all the right ways, their lips never really parting.

Before Wooyoung, San had never known what love really meant. Of course, he was aware of the different types of love and that he cared more for some people than others, and at one point in his life he might have thought he knew love, but he had been so wrong.

Being in love with Wooyoung was like a never-ending night of stars, where everything shone brightly and kept on shining brighter the longer you looked at it, seeing more and more pretty stars that made you love more, that made you love _deeper_. 

It was in moments like these, where they were lost in each other, lost in the blissful pleasure, that San knew what love really meant. It made him want to do better, to be better, to give Wooyoung everything he may ever desire. San would quite literally give Wooyoung his heart if he could, because he had already given everything of himself in every other sense possible.

San knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Wooyoung by his side, even if he knew a question like that was too soon to ask.

But he knew he would ask one day, when they were both ready, and until then he would love Wooyoung in every way he knew.

He picked up the pace a little and Wooyoung matched him, their movements so in sync it was nearly insane, but that was how they were. Somehow, they had become their own little entity, and they had adjusted their behavior towards one another in such unconscious ways that neither was aware of it ever happening.

But it was obvious now, as they sought the tipping point together, riding their lovestruck high until there was no more high to ride.

Wooyoung’s breathing quickened, his moans flowing more freely, and San knew Wooyoung was just as close as him. He wrapped a hand around Wooyoung’s cock, which had still been untouched until then, and started jerking Wooyoung in the same rhythm as his thrusts.

“It’s okay, baby,” San told him. “You can let go. Come for me.”

They came almost at the same time, Wooyoung’s orgasm enough to send San over the edge, and they clung to each other as much as they could as they allowed their highs to wash over them, like a wave crashing onto the sea. 

San didn’t move away, not immediately, taking the opportunity to cuddle Wooyoung affectionately, even if their positions were no longer ideal. But Wooyoung buried his face in San’s neck, his arms clinging around San’s waist, and San was once again reminded of how utterly _whipped_ he was for the boy in his arms.

“Sannie?” Wooyoung muttered, his voice a little muffled in San’s neck.

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

San pressed a kiss against Wooyoung’s temple. “I love you too, Woo, so much.”

Wooyoung tightened his hold in response, trying to pull San closer, even though they were already plastered together, their limbs tangled, and their hearts beating as one.

Eventually, when things started to feel uncomfortable and messy, San reluctantly pulled out, removing himself from their embrace. 

“Come on,” he urged, gently coaxing Wooyoung upright. “Let’s clean you up in the shower.” 

Wooyoung went along willingly, entwining their fingers as they walked the short distance towards the bathroom. They didn’t really speak, mainly because there was no need for words, but Wooyoung smiled softly and stayed close. 

The shower was warm, almost hot, but San knew that Wooyoung liked it like this, as the heat allowed his aching muscles to relax. The content sigh Wooyoung let out once he stepped under the water was enough confirmation.

San slipped into the shower too, his arms circling around Wooyoung’s waist as he gave Wooyoung all the time he needed. It was fascinating to watch, to see how Wooyoung slowly came out of the almost submissive mood he had been in, his features becoming more aware, present in a way that was different from before.

“Hey,” Wooyoung said after a couple of minutes, smile still on his lips. 

“Hey,” San answered in kind, pressing a kiss on the tip of Wooyoung’s nose, which earned him a loving giggle in response.

San helped Wooyoung clean up, erasing the physical traces of their lovemaking with practiced ease. Wooyoung arched into some of the touches, almost suggestively so, and San shook his head affectionally. 

“We’re going to be late if we go down that road again, Woo,” he warned when Wooyoung’s hands started to wander dangerously low.

“Shut up, we’re already late,” Wooyoung countered as his hand closed itself around San’s cock.

San knew he should be the voice of reason here, because it wouldn’t be the first time that they’d arrive late to another dance practice, but Wooyoung flicked his wrist just right and all rationality and reasonability practically flew out of the window.

Wooyoung was already dragging San closer again for another kiss, because they both knew San would have obliged anyway. 

The water was still streaming down on them, warm and steady, and San closed his fingers around Wooyoung’s cock too, kissing away the surprised gasp Wooyoung let out. 

Despite the fact that they would surely be late by now, San didn’t feel like rushing this particular moment, and it seemed Wooyoung didn’t feel like that either. Their movements were unhurried, but hitting all the right spots. At this point, they were familiar with what got the other off and it was all too easy to fall in a rhythm where the world around them was long forgotten. 

And perhaps San would have felt a bit embarrassed by how fast he was reaching another orgasm, but Wooyoung simply knew him inside and out, and there was no way San could postpone the inevitable. 

He was just _that_ whipped.

He came before Wooyoung, groaning through his orgasm, but forcing himself to increase his pace on Wooyoung, and it wasn’t long before Wooyoung came too, his moan loud and beautiful, and San held them steady, letting the water wash away their release.

“If the others comment on us being late, the blame is all on you,” he pointed out, even though he was placing kisses along Wooyoung’s jaw and in no hurry to get out of the shower.

Wooyoung snorted. “As if you minded this.”

“No, but that is not my point.”

“Sure, Sannie,” Wooyoung giggled.

They managed to get themselves out of the shower eventually, without falling back into their own little world. No matter how much San loved this, they actually did agree to meet with the others, and he knew how much Wooyoung loved these afternoons where it was just the eight of them, without the rest of the dance crew they (San and Seonghwa excluded, of course) were part of.

Getting ready was a relative quiet affair, but that was okay. Wooyoung was rummaging through San’s closet (though it was practically _theirs_ by now, considering half of the items belonged to Wooyoung) to find them some outfits, while San made them some food. Nothing fancy, but that didn’t matter either. Wooyoung would eat it anyway, telling San that it tasted good, and San would believe those words, because he always did, and Wooyoung’s smile spoke more than a thousand words.

By the time they were actually ready, all dressed and stomachs full, they were late, though neither of them was surprised about that fact.

They walked towards the dance studio, their arms linked, ignoring the occasional photograph they knew was being taken. Even though the initial media storm had certainly died down by now, San was still considered to be a celebrity and by extent, Wooyoung was sort of becoming one too. But it was easy to ignore that part of their lives, especially when they could easily lose themselves in their own little bubble.

“Have you thought about whether you’re going to take that new offer Eden mentioned?” Wooyoung asked about halfway through their little journey. 

They were standing in front of a traffic light, arms still linked, watching the bustling of traffic move in front of them as they waited patiently for the light to turn green.

“I have,” San answered, because he _had_. Eden had mentioned that a producer had send them a script and that the producer had San in mind specifically for the lead role. All he had to do was tell Eden he would do it, and he would be whisked away into the world of being an actor for a couple of months again. 

“And?” Wooyoung pressed on, giving San a little side glance. 

The light turned green and in sync, they started to move, as did the people around them. It was a nice day, with the sun full of early promises for a beautiful spring, and San slightly regretted to coat he was wearing. With the sun shining down, and with no clouds in the sky, it was a tad too warm.

“I haven’t decided yet.”

Somewhat surprisingly, San found himself hesitant to accept a new role. He loved acting, he had given up dancing for it after all, but he had grown accustomed to the way things were right now. Shooting was always hectic, a period where San knew he would be busy for weeks on end, not to mention all the promotional work that came with it once the movie would be released.

And maybe it was a bit selfish, but San found himself reluctant to throw himself into a new project when he was enjoying his life as it was. 

Accepting the new role would mean he wouldn’t be able to join Wooyoung as often and it would mean he’d have to say _no_ more often than _yes_ whenever their group of friends suggested to hang out. 

Despite the fact that San was more an actor than a dancer nowadays, at least according to his Wikipedia page, San found himself unwilling to give up dancing again. He had missed it, more than he had allowed himself to be aware of, but now that he had it back, with the best group he could ask for, San found himself drawn to the world of showcases again, of performing live for an audience, enthralling them as his movements became one with the music.

Wooyoung hummed beside him, in understanding. “When do you need to give them an answer?”

“Soon.”

Wooyoung cocked his head to the side a little, seeing through San with practiced ease. “How soon?”

San sighed, averting his gaze. “At the end of the week at the latest.”

“Do you _want_ to go back to acting?” Wooyoung asked, slowing down his pace a little. San slowed his steps down too, matching Wooyoung’s pace.

“I don’t know,” San answered truthfully. “At some point, I would like to go back to acting, I think. But… The idea of giving up _this_ ,” he made a vague motion with his hand, “doesn’t feel right. I just… It is a good script and it pays a decent amount of money. It’d be good press for Eden’s management, too.”

They had pretty much reached the dance studio by now, but Wooyoung stopped walking all of a sudden, the movement forcing them to separate. San twisted his body, looking at Wooyoung in confusion.

“You know you don’t have to give _this_ up, right?” Wooyoung asked, and San nodded, even though he had no idea where Wooyoung was going with this. “You are in the luxurious position where you can afford to do what you want, San.”

“I know--”

“You _know_ , and yet you still want to please everyone around you.” Wooyoung looked at him, his brows furrowed a little and San wanted to reach forward and kiss the little frown away, but he remained where he was, waiting for Wooyoung to continue.

“Look,” Wooyoung continued with a sigh. “I know that you feel like you have to go back to acting at some point, because it is what you’ve made yourself to be, and you feel responsible for things that aren’t really your responsibility. But you don’t have to go back _now_ if you don’t want to. I love you, and I will support you in whatever you decide, but that doesn’t mean I won’t call you out on it when you’re making decisions, you’re obviously not okay with.”

San cocked an eyebrow. “Who says I’m not okay with my decisions?”

“I am,” Wooyoung said sternly. “I know you, San, and I know that your face falls a little whenever we talk about you returning to acting. And I also know that your eyes shine like I’m giving you the world whenever I invite you along to these practices, even though I don’t have to invite you anymore at this point, because it’s a given you’re wanted there.”

“I know--”

“No, San,” Wooyoung interjected him. “I don’t think you do. We _all_ want you there as much as you want to be there. You’re as much a part of our little family now as I am. In the end, it will be your decision, and if you’re standing behind your decision, then I will support you all the way through. But know that if your decision were to be to take an extended break from acting so you can focus on _this_ , on our little family and on creating the most intense routines we’ve ever danced in our entire lives, know that you’d have seven people to lean on. Money isn’t an issue, and you know it. And you and I both know that Eden wouldn’t mind either. Has he ever pressured you into doing things you didn’t want to do?”

San shook his head. 

“Then what makes you think you _have_ to take this role now if you’re not ready for it?”

“I don’t know,” San admitted softly.

Wooyoung reached out, pulling San closer, ignoring the people that walked around them. “Look, you still have a few days to make a decision, right? Just… When you make your decision, make it with your heart, and not with that pretty head of yours, okay? Because I know you sometimes do things because you think you have to, not because you want to.”

San huffed a laugh. “Okay.”

Wooyoung kissed him, before breaking away with a laugh too. “That was surprisingly easy.”

“I am a weak man, Woo, we both know that,” San grinned. 

Wooyoung hummed, his arms circling around San’s waist and holding him close. “At least you’re _my_ weak man.”

“Always,” San countered, before grabbing Wooyoung’s face in his hands and kissing him deeply.

\--

By the time they _finally_ managed to walk into the main practice room, they were more than a little late. The rest of their group of friends was already dancing along to one of the newer routines they were working on, music loud from the boxes in the corner. 

Hongjoong noticed them first and motioned for everyone to quit what they were doing and walked over towards the stereo to pause the music. There was a knowing smirk on his face, even if his eyebrow was quirked in a questioning manner.

“Nice of you two to _finally_ join us,” he chirped.

“Sorry, Joong,” Wooyoung apologized, even though he sounded far from being sorry. 

“Why are you two late this time?” Yunho chimed in, ever the oblivious puppy he often tended (or pretended, if you’d ask San) to be. 

“Because they fucked,” Yeosang drawled from where he was seated. 

Wooyoung let out an undignified squeak, cheeks flushing a little. “We didn’t?”

“Tell that to the hickeys on your neck,” Yeosang pointed out.

“In our defense,” San chimed in, “those are from a few days ago.”

“Exactly,” Wooyoung said, at the same time Mingi groaned, “ _Oh God_ ,” making both Yunho and Jongho beside him cackle.

“I love this family,” Jongho said, wiping at his eyes a little. 

“It’s dysfunctional as fuck,” Yeosang countered.

“Liar,” Seonghwa said. “This family is lovely, Yeosang.”

Yeosang threw Seonghwa a _look_. “Care to explain why two of my brothers are fucking then?”

“You see, Sangie,” Yunho began, a shit-eating grin on his face, “when a boy and a boy love each other…”

Yeosang made a retching sound. “I do not remember asking _you_.”

“I also do not remember asking _you_ to comment on me and San’s sex life, but here we are,” Wooyoung pointed out.

“Maybe if you didn’t make it so obvious that you got dicked down this morning, I wouldn’t have to comment on your sex lives,” Yeosang stated matter-of-factly.

Wooyoung made another strangled noise. “Who said I got dicked down this morning?”

“Your face,” Jongho pointed out rather unhelpfully, earning a high-five from Yeosang who was seated next to him, “and your obvious lateness.” 

Hongjoong let out a sigh and San looked up just in time to see the elder drag a hand across his face. “Is it possible to still abort children _after_ birth?”

Seonghwa patted him on the head. “I’m afraid we’re stuck with them, babe.”

“Fucking _finally_ ,” Mingi yelled, effectively directing all attention away from San’s and Wooyoung’s sex life, for which San was grateful. Mingi looked at Yunho, holding out his hand as he did so and making grabby motions. “You owe me twenty, bitch.”

Yunho sighed as he dug into the pockets of his sweats and handed Mingi the money.

“Okay, what the _fuck_ ,” Hongjoong said.

Yunho just shrugged. “We placed a bet on which one of you two would mess up first and out the very obvious relationship you two are in, despite your best efforts of you two hiding it. I placed the bet on you, Mingi betted on Seonghwa.” 

“I -- _what_?” Seonghwa asked, eyes wide. Hongjoong simply muttered an undignified noise.

“Oh, _please_ ,” Wooyoung said, rolling his eyes. “You two aren’t as discrete and secretive as you two seem to think you are.”

“Neither are you two,” Yeosang pointed out, motioning between Wooyoung and San.

“Oh, _shut up_ ,” Wooyoung muttered, but it was obvious that his words carried no bite. 

Yeosang smirked at him. “Make me.”

“Gladly--”

“ _Guys!”_ Mingi interrupted. “As much as I enjoy watching you two idiots bicker, we are wasting the most perfect opportunity to embarrass mom and dad.” 

Seonghwa was still looking around the room with wide eyes. “How?” was all he managed to utter.

“Well,” Jongho chimed in, shrugging a little. “We all know you two sneak off to the smaller practice room to fool around.”

“And we know you two kissed on New Year’s Eve,” San added, to which the rest nodded enthusiastically.

Hongjoong shook his head and sighed. “Why didn’t you all say something earlier?”

Yunho shrugged. “We supposed there was a reason you two didn’t say anything yet, so we decided to just wait until you two were ready to tell us ourselves.” 

“See,” Mingi smiled. “We _can_ be nice and considerate when we want to be.”

“You’re all still little shits,” Hongjoong responded.

“But they’re _our_ little shits,” Seonghwa stated, smiling far too affectionately for the situation at hand.

“I _really_ love this family,” Jongho repeated, smiling broadly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Hongjoong groaned. “Come here, y’all, we need a group hug.”

Their laughing echoed through the room as they all moved, throwing arms around each other and playfully nudging shoulders. 

“Alright, now that we are all here,” Hongjoong said once they had parted, “Seonghwa and I can finally tell you something exciting.”

“If it is to say that you two are dating, we know,” Yeosang remarked, earning him a playful smack on the head from Seonghwa.

“No, Yeosang, it’s not _that_ ,” he said, patting down the spot on Yeosang’s head where he had just smacked him.

Hongjoong groaned. “Can I _please_ tell you guys what I want to say without getting interrupted?” 

They all made a sound of agreement, and Hongjoong looked around, before humming to himself.

“Great!” He cleared his throat, and when he spoke again, he spoke with that particular voice he always used whenever he took his rightful spot as their leader. “So, our routines and dance covers have been getting quite some attention on Yunho’s Youtube channel. Enough attention at least for people to notice. There is… There is a really great potential here, guys.” He looked at Seonghwa for a second, his smile softening affectionally. 

Yeosang made another gagging noise, but got swatted on the shoulder by Jongho.

“So, Seonghwa and I got into contact with Eden, to talk about some things.” He looked at San directly then, a knowing smile on his lips, even though San had no idea what this was about. “And he offered us the opportunity to build on this. It would mean we probably won’t have as much time for showcases with the big team, but it would mean we can build something _together_. As in, just the eight of us.”

Yunho was the first to respond. “For real?”

Hongjoong nodded. “We haven’t talked about any details yet, but someone contacted Eden about us, considering he manages both Seonghwa and San. Apparently, they want us to perform at some big events.”

“Shit,” Mingi muttered.

“Hongjoong and I are meeting Eden about it tomorrow,” Seonghwa continued. “And if you’re all up for it, we would like you all to come too.”

“Fuck yes,” Yeosang proclaimed, “count me in.”

The rest, apart from Wooyoung and San, voiced their excitement too, all variations of _I do_ echoing loudly through the room.

Hongjoong was still looking at San though, and he sighed before he spoke again, “I know you have another offer on the table, San.”

It wasn’t an accusation, merely a statement of the truth.

San nodded. “I do.”

Hongjoong cocked his head to the side. “I don’t want to influence your decision, because that decision is yours and yours alone to make. But…” He hesitated for a second, before continuing, “Accepting the offer you have would mean you won’t be able to join us. There would just not be enough time for you to juggle all responsibilities.”

Wooyoung gently squeezed San’s thigh, and San averted his gaze from Hongjoong to look at Wooyoung. 

But Wooyoung didn’t say anything, simply smiled at San, with so much love and trust, that San wondered why he had ever considered accepting an offer he wasn’t sure of, when he had _this_? 

He smiled back, squeezing Wooyoung’s thigh in return, and Wooyoung smiled so broadly and blindly, that San had to resist the urge to kiss him right there, right then.

“Are you sure?” Wooyoung still asked.

“I had to decide with my heart, right?” San answered, and Wooyoung squealed as he launched himself forward, into San’s ready arms.

“San? Woo?” Hongjoong asked, forcing San to let go of Wooyoung a little so he could look at the elder. “Are you guys in?”

They shared another look, a look that said more than a thousand words, and San knew then that he had made the right decision.

“Yeah,” he answered for the both of them, holding Wooyoung close as he looked back at Hongjoong. “We’re in.”

_ Because eight made one team _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap!
> 
> It honestly feels really weird to have uploaded the latest chapter in this fic. Even though it isn't the biggest fic I have ever written, it is the biggest one I have actually managed to finish. It's a surreal feeling, and I remember being nervous to post it, simply because I didn't know whether you guys would like it.
> 
> But holy smokes, all of your comments and kudos have really made me incredibly happy. I cannot express enough how amazing it was to post a new chapter and have comments coming into my inbox over the next days. From the bottom of my heart: thank you!
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this entire fic as much as I enjoyed writing it. Hopefully I'll see you guys around the next time I upload a new fic! I've found it to be incredibly fun to write for Woosan and there are a few ideas already in the works, both longer and shorter works, so I hope to be back soon with new stories.
> 
> Until then, thank you, once again ❤️.


End file.
